CIHM
Microfiche
Series
(Monograplis)
ICMH
Collection de
microfiches
(monographies)
11
Canadian Inathut* for Hlatorieal MleronproductioiM / InaWut Canadian da mierorapradiictiona Matorlquaa
TIM iRsliiutt has attampnd to obuin ttw bnl origiiul
copy availaM* for Uimtn%. Faaturn of this copy whioti
may b* bibliographically wwiiit. which may atltr any
of tha imatai in iha raproduction. or which may
Hfnificanilv chan«t tha uuial mathod of f ilminff, ara
■ mictof UmA la
L'lmtiiut a
lyiaM
axamplaira Qui Mni
MMiofraphiqiM, ^
raproduito. ou qiti
daralamMioda
ammplaifa mu'U
Lm d*t8iU da eat
du point do VIM
r una modification
□ Colourad eovon/
Cowamtro da eouloHr
pn Cofifi d awn idy
□ Cowan rattorad and/or laminatad/
Couvartura rastauraa ac/oo pa H iciilia
□ Covar lilla mitsing/
La litra da couvartura manqua
r~~] Colound mapi/
I I Cams ttographiquei an ooulauf
QColoufod nMi (i^.
ii
D
n
f Mit dt toiUm (i.t. tMn qut Mmh ov mini
Cotownd plain and/or iHintrationf/
nanchw M/ou illusDitiaiM m eoulnir
Bound wilh othtf mjMrial/
ft«M avM d'autrm docum«itt
0Tiflll bindiiifl may cmim il n dow i or dntortion
oloiif iiimiar Kurgiii/
Lo nliura Mrrio pout cauHf do I'OHikra ou dt l<
dtetonion !• long da la mart ' imiriauro
I I Blaoklaa>i
■ uxt.
taaan o m i n ad from f ilmmt/
lor* d'una ramuratian apparamant dam la laxia,
mail, lonqua cala aiait pouibla, cas pagof n'ont
□ Colourad pam/
Pagas da coulaur
I \rtm f mt m ti
n
Pagai raitauriaa at/oH paMauWai
0Pa«n ditcelaHrad. tlMad or foud/
Patn diootoriM, laatmtaa eu piquao
□ PataidaOdiad/
Pkfaidtariiiaa
□ Quality ol print nariaa/
Qualiti i n iiali da I'lmpwiiion
□ Continuout paiini t ion/
Nflmaiioo aontinua
D
Includai indaxM/
Tida on h iai f ir takan fraaa:/
La titra da I'ait-ita proniii H!
nz
afiMua/
dalitradalaliaraiMn
□ Caption of inua/
TitiadadipMdalalii
D
Manhaad/
Ganariqua (pariodiqu w l da la linaiion
Additional commanit:/ Pagaa ohol 1y otoacurad by tl ssuas hava boon raff load to antura tha boat
Cammantairai uipptamantairat: poaatbia loaga. Pagination l> aa folloni p. {lH, Cvlf]-e1jn, [7]>213.
Tim iiam it fitanad at tha raduction ratio diackad balow/
Ca doca m ant ait filma au taux da reduction indiqua ci-datteut.
10X 14X 1«X
ax
MX
MX
y
12X
ItX
20X
2«X
2ax
12X
Tha oopy fllmad hara Hm bMn raproducad thank*
to tha ganaroaity of:
National Library of Canada
L'axamplaira fiiin« fut raprodult griea i la
gtntroaitt da:
BiUlothtqua nationala du Canada
Tha magaa appaaring hara ara tha baat quality
ponibia conaldaring tha condition and ioglbllity
of tha original copy and In Icaaping with tha
filming contract (paclflcationa.
Original copiaa in printad papar eovar* ara fllmad
baglnnlng with tha front covar and anding on
tha last paga with a printad or lliuatratad Impraa-
sion, or tha back covar wtian appropriata. All
othar original copiaa ara fllmad baglnnlng on tha
firat paga with a printad or lliuatratad Impraa-
aion, and anding on tha laat p-n« with a printad
or lliuatratad tmpraaaion.
Tha laat racordad frama on aach microficha
ahall conuin tha aymboi — *- (maanlng "CON-
TINUED"), or tha aymboi y (maanlng "END"),
whichavar appllaa.
Maps, piataa, charta, ate, may ba fllmad at
diffarant raduction ratioa. Thoaa too larga to ba
antiraly Includad In ona axpoiura ara fllmad
baglnnlng In tha uppar laft hand comar, laft to
right and top to bottom, aa many framas aa
raqulrad. Tha following diagrama llluatrata tha
mathod:
Laa Imagaa auhfantaa ont M raproduitaa avac la
plua grand aoln, compta tanu da la condition at
da ia nattat* da l'axamplaira film*, at an
conformM avac laa condltlona du contrat da
flimaga.
Laa axamplairaa originaux dont ia couvartura an
paplar aat imprimto aont fllmfa an comman^nt
par la pramiar plat at an tarmlnant aoit par la
damitra paga qui comporta una amprainta
dimpraaaion ou d'llluatration. aolt par la aacond
plat, aaion la caa. Toua laa autraa axamplairaa
origlrwux aont fllmto an commandant par la
pramMra paga qui comporta una amprainta
dimpraaaion ou d'llluatration at an tarmlnant par
la darnMra paga qui comporta una talla
amprainta.
Un daa aymbolaa auivanta apparaltra «ur la
darnitra Imaga da chaqua microficha. aalon la
caa: la aymboia —»- algnlfia "A 8UIVRE", la
aymbola ▼ algnlfia "FIN".
Laa carta*, planchaa, tablaaux, ate, pauvant ttra
filmte * da* taux da rMuction dlff«rant*.
Loraqua la documant aat trap grand pour ttra
raprodult an un aaul cllch«, II aat film* t partir
da i'angia (up«rl*ur gaucha, da gaucha * drolta,
at da iiaut an baa, an pranant la nombra
d'imaga* nteaaaalra. Laa diagrammaa auivant*
llluatrant la mMhoda.
1
2
3
1
2
3
4
5
6
"Mwno" mr chait
(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHAUT l4o. 2)
1.0 gl^ 1^
^^ lit l£
I.I
25
b£ |2£
li^iu
|t8
1.6
^
^^PLIED ItVHGE Ine
1853 Ea>t Moin StrMt
RochMtvr, N«. York 14009 USA
(716) 482-0300 -Pfw>r^ "*
(716) 2B8-5M9-FM
*^'^i^ -r,
-i^:
'.-'>! ..T**
,J<i!^M
:fi
1 'Ogi
'PyRk.HT LOITION
M () L A
HGE ELIOT
K«/GK<)RGK KfJOt
'' 1 ! O E B L 1 N n
I
i.R A N G
lIOMm-i-T:-?!:-;^?;^,;-
lU
r
iL^^^A^^^COm^T- EDITION
By GEORGE ELIOT
^'/M* LIFE ./GEORGE ELIOT
Bjr MATHI^DE BLIND
PRONTO
GEORGE N. MORANG
•MPANy. LIMITED
MCMit
Bntar*)! accorrfbiK to Act ttf ParHanwit of Caaada, ia tba jrvar
Niaatawi Hundrad and Two, bjr Oaoaaa N, Mokahs ir Comtahv,
Ltfldtad. at tha DafartaMat of Affrisultwa.
009376SS
CONTENTS.
L
a
ui.
IV.
V.
VL
VIL
Via
IX.
X
XI.
Xil.
XUL
XIV.
XV.
m.
IV.
V.
VL
vn.
UEOBOK IU01
1>TMOUOTOIIT ^
Cbildbood asd Eablt Bomb ,m
YoirraruL Studim aiid raiiNDtHira »xUl
Tbahilatiom or Stbauu amd Fcdkbbaob— Tovb
OB THE CoHTinifT XXXlz
Td 'Wb8T«ih»tbbRbvibw' xii,
Obobob Hbitbt Lbwbi 1,111
SOBBBS OF Clbbical Lin .... Ix^
t^^j""' .■.'.■; i««iu
Tbb Mill ob tbb Flou ,ct1
8lLA» HABBBS ^
!°"°"' :.::::: dv
^^T' ««"»
Fblix Holt ahd Hiddlbmabch ezzzUl
Dabibl Dbbobda jji
LAiT TbABS ....
cUt
BOICOLA
I'M"" ,,
Book I
The 8HIPWBBCKBD Stbabobb 15
Bbbakfast fob Lovb jg
Thb Babbbb'b Shop gi
FiasT Ihpbbsuohs ^
Thb Blibd Scholab abd hu Oausbtbb SO
Dawhibo Hopes gj
A Lbabhbs S^habblb fta
CONTENTS.
oBArrsB
VIU. A Face w thb Cbowd ... '"■
IX. A Man's Ransom ®
X. Dndeb the Plane-Tbee ^™
XI. Tito's Dilemma . . '*
Tni' l" ^'" " ^"^" «"*»™' .'.■.■■■■"■ m
XIII. The Shadow of Nemesis "*
XIV. The Peasants' Faib . "*
XV. Th. DriNo Message ...'.'.' .' '**
XVI. A Flobentinb Joke ..." ^**
XVII. Uhdeb the Loogia . "'
XVIII. The Pobtbait . '»
XIX. The Old Man's Hope "*
XX. The Day OF imc Beibotbal ' ' ' ' ^^
SOS
GEORGE ELIOT.
CHAPTBB I.
INTBODUOTOBT.
Spbakbto Of the contributions made to literatn™ h. u
current, throuch th« Ian™,.™ , ."* PMsed, hke an electric
»ge of their sex. Th^y ttoS IL f u ^"""^ '"^ *" ~"-
they wrote, their books beZ«fr/n' " '""^'"'' """^ '''»en
woia«hood. A^dTy belT^l't^^'^* fP""""" <>' their
ing in.pi«tion from thSwn liflxr''''^'''''. ""^ """y ""«"'-
Wlely copying that of Irthii, i f/^ °"f- '°''*'''^ °^ ""^
novels an^piftures^haVeTdiS'n^^^^ "-^ '^'T"' '^'"
student of art and litl»tn™ iS^ ??^' """1"^> ''^"^ f°' the
hwd, have not foUo j^The f =°8'"'J"'?'"«'>. <>" the other
They' have not alK free T .""^^ '""P"''*" °^ ""t""*-
the masculine ™^r^ For tw " mtellectual products on
their writing^ rrT-usua^?: Tj^'Z'"' '"^^ *^'"»« ^""t.
"BMcnlinestrie like th« .w ? ""^ e^^aggeration of the
male attire "' ''^asgermg gait of a bad actress in
Hi
viii
GEOKGE EUOX
with M^ame de St:^!.^ S^ ~ Z^^ °- cocpa^Ht
*«»«." But an aphorism, howeveS- -^^""^ »'<»/«»*
only one half the?ruth.aidthertaS"ir'' """""^ '«°^°»
women have already, and will m^,"). ^ f "'»' *° ""wk that
«f nse into their works oer^ inteUecTr 'T'^' "'^^'^y.
.ties which are essentially their ojn'sh '^f '"""'°'^ 5'>^-
mit George Eliot's conclusion tCj J ?^^ ''«' however, ad-
hitherto shown any of this ori«n^? ^""fhwomen alone have
mentioned by herein ^^f^'^'^^' S^^e^l causes are
Among these causes there is nnl.t- t" ^'"'^Ptioual merit
to every one who began to "fleet 1 . v ^""^^ P^'^Wy occur
ence of the « Salon "in dev£' °« '*'" '"•'J"''- The influ-
feminine talents has long bl^i Cc^ritj''T'''«°» «■« finest
women the gift of expression w^. * ^- ^° "*" ^ehool for
of perfection. By thr^^^f^e c^^'"*^ '" *^« "'"o^t Pit4
of the most vital subjecrtwJ!!!.*'""' "" "'« disonSsion
and forcible; sentimentS„*H« ^,' "'«"' l'"°«ous,
""e-t ; and wit, with i .^b^wTn^^'n ' •«^'' °* '^fi"*"
sombre background of life ^ "ointillations, lit „p the
morelpnuLXXtlr^^^^ accounting for that
them by George Eliot, thlw ?s oZ^T'"'' "t^buted to
We occurred to no other i^nd th^ T^'"^ ''""" P^^^Wy
characteristic of her earlv ,^»n«fl . ^'"'' """^ '^ki^I' is too
For according to her. the p^ r„^ " J^°'T''''' '^ ^ ""itt^
'« «ainly due to certainh" JorT*^ "^ P«>nckwomen
Gallic race. Namely, to the "Si""* P*""""'""" «" the
perament which penit the L.^rl .""" *'"' ^■^»«»ns tem-
the superlative a^iWty wqui^S fn^''*" °^ ^oman to sustain
whereas "the larger blinlnd sW •^''"^'''"al creativeness,"
'»h and Germans are™ the wZn, "^""1"^"' °' ""> B"?"
Jreamy and passive. So tW Ti,?"^'^ .organization generally
'"ffice as the substratnm fori su' ri^';^ n- °' * ''°'»»° "ay
-og«t,pro«tin,bythe..Get^rCyTriturS?:
INTBODUCTORY.
IZ
to reflect that she does not deDrti!. l * '*^' gratifying
even English and Gema^ womTn Sh^ .' T",''' «««« of
tions might arise which iiTthlir^^. , *'^'°"' *''»' """di-
to the highest creatire&rt L^f- ° r"'"* ^ ^^^°'»We
the existing state of thh,« 'Jn J "' "^'"^ ^°^^^ ""odify
W own scintifil ^L^^Xr- Thf wl'a'n^ ^ ^^^^'^ ^"
city can seldom rise beyond ti^e\.J^.V^ T- °^ '*'8e oapa-
sical conditions relu^toZ^t!)^°''°^'^'^'^''^^y-
Bpontaneous activity; The voiE i '^' "T^ '«<l»i™d for
produce crystaUizations " ^ "^ ""' '"°°8 «°""gt to
favorable circumstances^^^tS^"^ ' ^' ^""^ '''°^« "°'«
ready arisen in her case? No Tw w I!f' P^^^Wlities al-
ter, in the superior cSfms of i InstH ' ^^''^f' ^°' *'''" "at-
true George Hiot enumemte " t J?,""'""'""'"- I' «
But on the whole we may W of Tn! "' "f "' """»««•
need not shrink from th^ tmpalfn """' '"''''"*■«'' ""»*
geners;iT/rrnrrpet«^^^^^^^^^^
remains," she says, "the single S^c'e 11 ^' ^^'^^
supreme in a class of literature which h! " ''°°""' ^''° "
t.on of men, Mme. Da^Sr "till -Lfr*"^'' *" """W-
stockings, though women W„ ^^ .** "J"*"' "^ "ue-
shame, Mme. d^e S^Ps nam;' n f "'"f '1. ^"'«'' ^'^"^^
are asked to mentioT a wdn^ *! ^ ' "P" '"'""' ^«
Mme Round is still th^ ZT^alled C Jt" '=*^ '"''"'
sternly heroic yet lovable wom«n ^ o*''* sagacious and
preached artist who to jCtL'^,^"""* " *'"""'»?-
sense of external natare „n,>^ If f°'J'"'°''« ""^ deep
"■rr *"J ^ Co depth ^ pli^T «'««-«<'" <>'
o^'Sa^llX^ri'ac^^^^^^^
so certain that they, too did n^ \^ '"«'' * '«^«1 ? Is it
their womanly nat^ur^s ? Thaf tW V"* .°'. *'« ^"'"««» <>*
genuine need to express modes of tL^^l '''^. °°* ^''^ 'he
l.ar to themselves, which men, if at aTt.^^''/''''-^ P^"""
eipressed hitherto ? ' *"' ^*^ ^ut inadequately
hi
X QEORQE EUOT.
Wm not Queen Elizabeth the best type of a female ruler,
one whose keen penetration enabled her to choose her mlnis-
tei8 with infallible judgment ? Did not Fanny Burney distil
the delicate aroma of girlhood in one of the most delightful
of novels ? Or what of Jane Austen, whose microscopic
fidelity of observation has a well-nigh scientific accuracy,
oerer equalled unless in the pages of the author we are writ-
ing of ? Sir Walter Scott apparently recognized the eminently
feminine inspiration of her writings, as he says : " That young
lady had a talent for describing the involvements, and feel-
ings, and characters of ordinary life, which is for me the most
wonderful I ever met with. The Bow-wow strain I can do
myself like any now agoing; but the exquisite touch, which
renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interest-
ing from the truth of the descriptions and the sentiment, is
denied to me." Then turning to the Brontes, does not one
feel the very heartbeats of womanhood in those powerful
utterances that seem to spring from some central emotional
energy ? Again, does not Mrs. Browning occupy a unique
place among poets ? Is there not a distinctively womanly
strain of emotion in the throbbing tides of her high-wrought
melodious song ? And, to come to George Eliot herself, will
any one deny that, in the combination of sheer intellectual
power with an unparalleled vision for the homely details of
life, she takes precedence of all writers of this or any other
country ? To some extent this wonderful woman conforms to
her own standard. She undoubtedly adds to the common
fund of orystallfzed human experience, as literature might be
called, something which is specifically feminine. But, on the
other hand, her intellect excels precisely in those qualities
habitually believed to be masculine, one of its chief character-
istics consisting in the grasp of abstract philosophical ideas.
This faculty, however, by no means impairs those instinctive
processes of the imagination by which true artistic work is
produced ; George Eliot combining in an nnusual degree the
subtlest power of analysis with that happy gift of genius
which enabled her to create such characters as Amos Barton,
Hetty, Mrs. Poyser, Maggie, and Tom TuUiver, Godfrey Cass,
and Caleb Garth, which seem to come fresh from the mould of
INTBODUCTOBV.
Xi
he, ^Se soil L^'^^ZZ'TZ ^ '"'f ""« "»"-
types, whereas GeonfeS^d nnw, ^* ""'"^ "^ "PPosito
th^ugh^ in sy.X wXrZtil^'-''^ '^^^^ ^"^ ^»
their r^pectiv; TountrTe? If fttm' ^'f .« P°^'«°'' '"
main a question of il^yuXlll'X,'''''''' '"
disposed to rank higher, Geori m^ K .*"" °°* "
realist, George Sand ^the 'greaS iS st "f *L "'^ «''**''^'
works of the French writer?™ ;„/;' °^ ''" *"• The
than novels. They are noTsturtil/?"/' T'" P"^'"^ "''^er
by the poet's visi'r G^o ' sZ '"' interpreted
tion of My scene in n^°^ ??** ''*°°°' «'''« "« » desorip.
character, Sut Tm^e to f/ °'° ''*"°«'' °* " ^""-^^
objects seen under V^^^J '* '""^ °"^«'" e^ect as of
storm clouds- wher^^Seorr'^1^'"'' °' '°°°''"^''* °'
ductions in th7h7^ ^!!^ .J^* 'Tf *° '^**'e '"'^ P'O"
n>om for iUulnZf re^veis airiaf "^ ''^>. "''"^ ""''^^ »->
directness. The one h« m^ ? v " '""' uncompromising
which seizes on the elementrsid. ''^'.f ™"'^« imaginatiof
of the starry heaven7n?„f A, °*, W«-on the spectacle
tion and tu?ult ofTum^ 'ir' '" i'"'^t'' °° *« •°»"'«'^
convulsing the socw"o^e^"TCt^';„«,';°«'^« "* "-'"tion
higher degree, the acute intPll-J "*"■ P«»»M«es, in a
sequence of life foTSlt^,nii 5'™'P"°° *»' *'"' °«leriy
the lot of the mis of men ^nH^ll' "'""t"' '"^ "''''"> *«
aspects as it teUs "n our 'd! , • ^*' '"'*'' '° ''« *«""«!■"
finest work thti^a sweet L^n'r^f- ^° ^°'«« S*'"^'^
were an oracle of mtuTuJr^ "'<''^' *'"'™' '^ '^ '^^
message. But on fh. f k ^ o* automatically the divine
sakes her, sheVriftf Il^n^o^:''' "^" '""^ '^^^^^^^ou for!
fatal facility of Ken oLn ''^^ ^■v"''"^
-Wgenius: indee^irro^MrSirG^^^^^^^^^^^^
4C
1
H
I
*•' GBORGE EUOT.
that if you set up for an artist you must command art. This
intellectual self-restraint never forsakes George Eliot, who
always selects her means with a thorough knowledge -' the
ends to be attained. The radical difference in the genius of
these two writers, to both of whom applies Mrs. Browning's
apt appellation of "large-brained woman and large-hearted
man," extends naturally to their whole tone of thought.
George Sand is impassioned, turbulent, revolutionary, the
spiritual daughter of Kousseau, with an enthusiastic faith in
man's future destiny. George Eliot, contemplative, obser-
vant, instinctively conservative, her imagination dearly lov-
ing to do "a little Toryism on the sly," is as yet the sole
outcome of the modern positive spirit in imaginative litera-
ture — the sole novelist who has incorporated in an artistic
form some of the leading ideas of Comte, of Mazzini, and
of Darwin. In fact, underlying all her art there is the same
rigorous teaching of the inexorable laws which govern the life
of man. The teaching that not liberty but duty is the condi-
tion of existence ; the teaching of the incalculable effects of
hereditary transmission, with the solemn responsibUities it
involves ; the teaching of the inherent sadness and imperfec-
tion in human nature, which render resignation the first virtue
of man.
Ii. f-xit, as a moral influence, George Eliot cannot so much
be compared with George Sand, or with any other novelist of
her generation, as with Carlyle. She had, indeed, a far more
explicit ethical code to offer than the author of ' Sartor Besar-
tus.' For though the immense force of the tetter's personal-
ity, glowing through his writings, had a tonic effect in
promoting a healthy moral tone, there was little of positive
moral truth to be gathered from them. But the lessons
which George Eliot would fain teach to men were most
unmistakable in their bearing — the lessons of pitying love
towards fellow-man; of sympathy with all human suffering;
of unwavering faithfulness toward the social bond, consisting
in the claims of race, of country, of family ; of unflagging
aspiration after that life which is most beneficent to the com-
munity, that life, j short, towards which she herself aspired
in the now famous prayer to reach
CHILDHOOD AND EABLV HOME,
'm /."",' """"• •* "^ <*"" •Ml'
B«g«t the .mj„ ,h„ h„, „„ ^^ J.
And is d.ffn.io„ „„ „„^ inteoM." '
CHAPTEE II.
OHIIDHOOD AHD EAW,T HOM.
«nff, in the parish of Colton t ^"*\^''™' » mile from
Jate and placfof her Wrth W 1 '"^^"•'- ^*^ "»«
hitherto, i. the notices fhe^ We ThaTT"^ ''**«'''
«nff House in March of the Llnwir. ""^'^^ '^°'">^ *»
only six month, old. Her fath^ ZL^i' '''"'° "''«' ^^
^ngin, was a StaffordsW™ mln fr^"**^, ^^'""'' "^ ^eloh
bourne, and began life «^a I! T ^"^*°"' "«" Ash-
Griff House mafstiulelenrr«'L„^° *" >'''<"'"' «
press, a sample of his work^nsht T '^i!''^'"''"' •^''"
preserved there, is known aa^^thf V. i^"*^" °* ^•"'' »'»"
It.» not *, good a likeneTL tw ■^i'^'" l^^""" ^^•"
painted miniature, the features of -»-^ t ~^« """fuHy
able resemblance to thoseTf 2 d Jhf ^*' "" ""mistak-.
tal.ze his name. A strongly VaS*"' 'l«'«"'^ *» i-n-nor-
""Msive in structure, and wrth br^l ' ^*' ^'^^me lace,
penetrating glance is particularly not7° ff^L '"""«' "''""'d
■of strong practical intelUgence of rt^. '' ^^^"^ *'"' """n
H.S career and character ^' ISr^'^^."'"* ""•J"™"'*-
Bede, Caleb Garth, and Mr^aS^"^ ^"^'"^ « Adam
the different stages of his lifr^ 'r^'!'"^"'^ « ''hich
■of fact and fiction. A slh^„-* i, "corded with a mingline
1
HI
n
tlr
GEOROE ELIOT.
Like Adam Bede, Mr. Evani from carpenter rose to be
forester, and from forester to be land-agenL It was in ihe
latter capacity alone that he was ever known in Warwick-
shire. At one time he was surveyor to five estates in the
midland counties — those of Lord Aylesford, Lord Liilord,
Mr. Bromley Davenport, Mrs. Gregory, and Sir Eoger Newdi-
gate. The last was his principal employer. Having early
discer .ed the exceptional capacity of the man, Sir Boger
induced him to settle in Warwickshire, and take charge of
his estates. Sir Roger's seat, Arbury Hall, is the original of
the charming description of Cheverel Manor in ' Mr. Qilfll's
Love Story.' It is said that Mr. Evans's trustworthiness had
become proverbial in the county. But while faithfiUly serv-
ing his employers he also enjoyed great popularity among
their tenants. He was gentle, but of indomitable firmness ;
and while stem to the idle and unthri%, he did not press
heavily on those who might be behindhand with their rent,
owing to ill-luck or misfortune, on quarter days.
Mr. Evans was twice married. He had lost his first wife,
by whom he had a son and a daughter, before settling in
Warwickshire. Of his second wife, whose maiden name was
Pearson, very little is known. She must, therefore, accord-
ing to Schiller, have been a pattern of womanhood ; for he
says that the best women, like the best ruled states, have
no history. We have it on very good authority, however
that Mrs. Hackit, in 'Amos Barton,' is a faithful likeness of
George Eliot's mother. This may seem startling at first,
but, on reflection, she is the woman one might have expected,
being a strongly marked figure, with a heart as tender as her
tongue 18 sharp. She is described as a thin woman, with
a chronic liver-complaint, of indefatigable industry and epi-
grammatic speech ; who, "in the utmost enjoyment of spoil-
ing a friend's self-satisfaction, was never known to spoil a
stocking." A notable housewife, whose clock-work regularity
m all domestic affairs was such that all her farm-work was
done by nine o'clock in the morning, when she would sit
down to her loom. " In the same spirit, she brought out her
furs on the first of November, whatever might be the tem-
perature. She was not a woman weakly to accommodate her-
CHODHOOD AOT) bably HOME.
•elf to •hilly-shally prooeedinm If fh.
what it ought to do, Mrs St ifd'^^VT" 5''^°'* '""W
WM always sharp weaker ^.n ^° •"" •*»* ^7» i*
of temper, she was yet ?ull JT^ observant and quick
•howing itself inVealtiiehe^, "*"'"''''" "^"■P^'-y
ea^e to the assistance TZrS^TV'^ '^'"^ ">•
•he showed to her ohildren^h i^ ^"*°°' »°^ '^e love
her. '"""*«'"• ''H however, declined kissing
oha'LSr'Ld'^Ls.S Stm^r'"'""''^ '^*''«'"' this
"' ? Mary Ann's g^?t 'of ' S!f f^""''' "^ ^°-ee Eliot's
mother-wit, in the true sense C hi ^fv '"^ '^''"'^°"
vellons powers of obserS^l 5 ""'' ''""" a°d "'a'-
aide, while her oonSSnl'^. ''''"'«<' ^""^ «>« «une
faculty of taking X Si«' ^ '"'^"^' '""' '^•*
development of OTninslr. .'° '*'«« » factor in the
^ Mr. Evans h^TZ rh^^^n bv hlsT'^^ ^""" "■« ^''"'"
Isaac, and Mary Ann iJ?,f„? T"'' ''"''' ^^'"^"ana,
George Eliot, i7reX to sol ^ '-terest:ng, I think," writS
"to know whethe™ a wHtor wJT"""" "^-^ American ladT
district-aconditio'nSX^;" - » central or bordf;
ing influence. I was bom in wT^- u^. * """"gly determin-
traditions connecte'Smo^ "rh"?"'^'''."' "^^'^ ^^^''^
districts a region of poetry to^^-^ '*"*"*^'« "ade these
the autobiog^pbiors'c^,^'";^ ^.7 farly childhood." ^
we catch a riimnsfl nf .7™^''^ ®" 'Brother and Sister '
their accusCerralible r ,t™r^'^'''« "» children f^r
•etting the frill inTder: then T^'^? ^°'"' *« *'PP«' and
follow their lessening fiV.;r„;ttt 2 t. ^^ ''°°'-»'«P *»
f«e-" Mrs. Evans was aware to , ^^'^Jf'^^^otion of her
daughter's unusual caDacittT^' .''*'**'° *^*C"'. of her
should have the tstTuc^^;u'^'"«*"r"' "*" ""'^ "•«* «he
but also that good mot^TnCenlel sho^M "h^'k ""'f ^^'^ood.
upon her: still, the eirl's Pm.?f?. v . ** ^ ''""»ht to bear
bed c. used the'praXlUrh r t'^'Hranr"^' ^^^" '"
The house, where the femiw 1 ^""'^ annoyance,
which the firk twenty yeaS^^M-^^'l/* *^* time, and in
"pent, is situated inVrich yeSlt^"",^''"'''^ "^« ^«'«
verdant landscape, where the
I
\
xri
OIOBOE EUOT.
" gtMsy fieldi, each with a tort of pcnonality given to it bjr
the oapricioui hedge-rowi," blend harmoniously with the red-
roofed cottages Koattered in a happy haphazard fashion amid
orchards and elder-bushes. Sixty years ago the country was
much more thickly wooded than now, and from the windows
of OrifF House might be seen the oaks and elms that had still
survived from Shakespeare's forest of Arden. The house of
the Erans family, half manor-house, half farm, was an old-
fashioned building, two stories high, with red brick walls
thickly covered with ivy. Like the' Garths, they were prob-
ably "very fond of their old house." A lawn, interspersed
with trees, stretched in front towards the gate, flanked by
two stately Norway firs, while a sombre old yew almost
touched some of the upper windows with its wide-spreading
branches. A farm-yard was at the back, with low rambling
sheds and stables ; and beyond that, bounded by qniet meadows,
one may still see the identical " leafy, flowery, bushy " garden,
which Qeorge Eliot so often delighted in describing, at a time
when her early life, with all its tenderly hoarded associations,
had become to her but a haunting memory of bygone things.
A garden where roses and cabbages jostle each other, where
vegetables have to make room for gnarled old apple-trees, and
where, amid the raspberry-bushes and row of onrrajt-trees,
you expect to come upon Hetty herself, " stooping to gather
the low-hanging fruit."
Such was the place where the childhood of George Eliot
was spent. Here she drew in those impressions of English
rural and provincial life, of which one day she was to become
the greatest interpreter. Impossible to be in a better position
for seeing life. Not only was her father's position always
improving, so that she was early brought in contact with dif-
ferent grades of society, but his calling made him more or less
acquainted with all ranks of his neighbors, and, says George
Eliot, " I have always thought that the most fortunate Britons
are those whose experience has .given them a practical share
in many aspects of the national lot, who have lived long among
the mixed commonalty, roughing it with them under difficul-
ties, knowing how their food tastes to them, and getting
acquainted with their notions and motives, not by inference
CHILDHOOD AND BARLY HOME.
from traditional typM in liter«ti™ />. #„
dinary tenacity ?0^rofh.r^5K,i„ ""*"""' °' ""ro-"-
imagine George E io^ «" bat th^' "' "" 'T'""' '"
n.u«t have come into thVworlH fnii ! , '"*.""'^ " '* "''"
Minerva. Her te.Tu^^Z^^'L^tSlfl^^'' " T ""^
Deane, had peonliarlv Z'nf„ # -^ *''* ""S*"*' "^ ^"«y
fromo^t.d«,r«mWe,i,CL "l-"'"! ''*^' """^ »''™°k
But Mary Ann a"d her br^thl ""'i'?? ">" "''oes or pinafore.
of her oWn ohUdhood : _ ^ '°°*"* " * reminiacenoe
Aad M. n», when 1 «>- , B„ri„ bu^,
S»tch oat th. lise, 1«. h. .hould 3too Uf.
And «,n,«I . d,«„..wo,ld flowing ofwS; ad,.
"A to pavUioned Jboat for m. .done,
»wing me onwwd throngh the rut unknown.
"^W*^r° "" '"«''' '"■'«''■'"«* prow,
And aU aj «,nl wm qai«ring fear, when lol
Ijpon ,h. imperiltod line. .upendU Ugl^
fil
"'^ OIOROK EUOT.
"ArilT.rp.ichl My gam UiM won th. pwy
Now tanwl to nwrit, had • gmrdoii rick
Of hiifi ud pniM., uid nud. nuny plar
UuU n; Mnnph iwobMl lu highMt pilch
• Wb«i (ll u hooM WM. told th« nmdniw fwl.
And how th. lltU. liiMr had bhnl w*U.
In iMi«t, though my fortan. twt«l awMi,
I woadtrad why thi. happinaa b.I.U.
" ■ Th. UtU. laM had Inch,' th. gardowr aaid j
And K> I Umti, Inch wa. to glory w«l."
Unlike Maggie, however, little Mary Ann wa» m good »
hand at fishing as her brother, only differing from him in not
liking to put the worms on the hooks.
Another incident taken from real life, if somewnat magni-
fied, IS the adventure with the gypsies. For the prototypl of
Maggie also fell among these marauding vagrants, and was
detained a little time among them. Whether she also pro-
posed to instrpot the gypsies and to gain great iafluenoe over
them by teaching them something about "geography" and
"Columbus," does not transpire. But, ind4d, most of
Maggies early experiences are autobiographic, down to such
facts as her father telling her to rub her "turnip" cheeks
against Sally's to get a little bloom, and to cutting off one side
of her hair m a passion. At a very early age Mary Ann and
her brother were sent to the village free school at Colton, in
the parish of Oriff, -v not unusual custom in those days, when
the means of tuition for little children were much more difH-
cult to procure than now. There are still old men living who
used to sit on the same form with little Mary Ann Evans
learning her A, B, C, and a certain William Jacques (the
original of the delightfully comic Bob Jakins of fiction)
remembers carrying hi ■ piok-a-baok on the lawn in front of
her lather j house.
As the brother and tnster grew older they saw less of each
other, Mary Ann being sent to a school at Nuneaton, kept by
Miss Lewis, for whom she retained an affectionate regard W
years afterwards. About the same time she taught at a Sun-
day-school, ,n a httle cottage adjoining her father's house.
CHILDHOOD AND EAKLY HOMB. xix
tbre«ornw«l. awkira?5^ girl "who '?! ""' "• 1"'"'
wtohed h,r elder,, .h. wS pi J^5 J w" with th^'M""'''^
Franklin at CoTentrv tki. ""*,"**"»•' "tn the Mines
whom the younger, Mi,. Keb;»a "Sin Vja to™"' 1
unusual attainments and ladylike oulta« L^thT k """ "'
out a certain taint of Tnhn.™- '"L"""' »'">ough not with-
have thowughly L^undJ^l V r *"''''°"- ^^^ •"■»» ^
education Sng ™at .t™« 'IL' 1'"','" ' '"""'* =°8>'»''
of a pred.,^,.! Cfu fmannerT.™'!:! °" ">« P"?""'^
She herulf alwava ,„"i.™ " ° /P*""""* """^ reading.
.tudiedTentenJI.^and on Lr"' °' "P""*"* herself in
called to a«k Xr a H^i ?f. "'^"'"' "''«'» • Mend had
::r:rrnrtt: th^"'-" -ckX'riLtiroj fi:
felKher ip! 'fSbvTh'atT'^V' '^"^ --'-oe,!. it
-e second «a?u;e.td;i^l*,-TLtS^^^^^^^
beauty of l^e^l^tZ in ™X°SiIh' "^' *''"'' °' ""'
to the same early influeVoe ^ ** '~*"^ """ °'"'»
"SS7A„" Si*';erratitne*'L"'n' *" ^ """""^
stood aloof from thV 0*1!^ , '•>« Misses Franklin. She
lows. Miss Br^^l y JenkLTa™\Tatr °' '" '^''°°'-''''
markable in those LirdaysM^Ll^L^^ ''"'" "^ ™-
She seems to haveTt«tn^jl ■ ! * ''** acquired fame.
i
'i
i ■
** QEOBGE ELIOT.
rZr.''^^ appearance of a grave, staid woman, so much
so, that a stranger, happening to caU one day, mistook this
g.rl of th.rteen forone of the Misses Franklin, who wl^e then
middle-aged women. In this, also, there is a certain resem"
blance to Maggie Tulliver, who, at the age of th rteen Ts
described a^ looking already like a wom^. Eng Ish c'om
position, French and German, were some of the ! udies to
which much time and attention were devoted. Bein™tlv
^advance of the other pupils in the knowledge ofV^ch^
Miss Evans and Mi.s Jenkins were taken out of the ^1
class and set to study it together, but, though the tw^ riris
were thus associated in a closer fellowship, „o real intirScv
George Eho." with mtense interest, but always felt as if in
the presence of a superior, though socially their p^i tens
were much on a par. This haunting sense of superiority pre
eluded the growth of any closer friendship bet,^en the ?wo
flohoolgirl, when one day, on using Marian Evans's Germ^
dictioiury. she saw scribbled on its blank page some ve»eT
fo^ Z? "T^"^' "E""'°8 ""'«' sentimenSly a yelS
then thp™ '^^P'*^- ^""^^ '^' granite-like exS
humLn^ 7"" ^^f^ " '""^ *'•»' passionately craved T;
human tenderness and companionship I
thL""!' '°"'"JI^ ^^ °° '*°"''* '•"« PO'tio" of George Eliot in
!f unusTl- ^*" "r' '^""^y ^^^^'^ a dim oonscioun, °
of unusiml power, to a great extent isolating her from Z
girs of her own age, absorbed as they were in qu toother
Hfe at'^hif '^'". ^r°« ''''^'"'' convictions Vi^edte
tion th^h T°''' r^ '° '^' ^""^^ ^"i"' and spiritual exaltl
CHttDHOOD AND EAHLT HOME.
checkmated .t^C°^2'ZfT °' T •— ' --
and d«tii,guiahi„g pre^mCoe *^Lh '^ -^"^ probation
aaoeboism did not exclude, on th'« nf,? \P'''y ^"'Png on
perception of the advantages l.!?/". ^^^^'^ ^e'-y clear
-"Jth, ard high soct:SXCn St'^ °' «°°^ ^X
Esther m .pelix Holt,' she hada'fin^^ " "''" «*'«"'!"»
anomalous surroundinOT of tl^ v I /*"'*' *^*^ somewhat
cacies which are sup^'s:d to A "^-r^t^ and dell!
P«opeof..ankandf^hion She evt «h ^'^ ""'*'">'«"' of
menboned heroine certain gfriL v» ^"'"' '"''^ *•>« abo^e-
losing her mother, who died in herfn . *^^°'"fortune of
»g to a friend in after life he says ^rT ^**'- ^"t"
to be acquainted with the unswaSl • ^^° *' ""t^en
"g, m the death oi my mS" ll,^"'^ °^ "^ '»«* Part-
ensued though iu the end they Lvp^ , ''°™'^"' Patings
Her elder sister, and the brother in tl " '" ""vocable.
foUowed "puppy-lihe " ma,^.H ^ ''°*' '"^P* she had once
own. ThefrJ^^er^tt'ioterKdT^^ '° homes o7 the
f^erences of their aims VAZ '^ ""ore pronounced
"bother and sister" comXtely T^T"^' '''^>ded the
between people who have been fri^nH^ ^""^ °^ "^Paration
terrible to endure than the act Jl . u'"/"""' " °ft«n moi«
t'-ly "work like madnet, in the b" n^'T ^"' """^ <'<"b
reference to this in that n»ft,i^ ' ^ *bere not some
"Family likeness hj'fr a dirT '" '^•''"» ^^-'^
tl«'t great tragic dramat st k„if ^ '"^^'"' *° ■'• Nature,
»u,cle,and diodes rby'ttsubL'we^f" '^ *»"« -^
yearning and repulsion, and ties us h^ °l°"' ''™'"'' "«■"»»
l^.ngs that jar us at ev'er^ement'^ °" heartstrings to the
so like our mother's av«rt.^ * • ' • ^e see eyes — ah »
For some years Xr If. m" "^'° ""'-J alienation" '
mainedalone'^t^^^thlfat Griff w ^'^"^ ^^'^ ^er father re-
'°°'^' *^'^'- -' '" - ^^ttntrSi o1
n
f I
zzii
GEORGE ELIOT.
"the little wenoh," as he oaUed her. But his daughter pre-
ferred taking the whole rranagement of the place into her own
hands, and she was as .soientious and diligent in the dis-
charge of her domestic ^uties as in the prosecution of the
studies she carried on at the same time. One of her chief
beauties was in her large, finely shaped, feminine hands —
hands which she haa, indeed, described as characteristic of
several of ?,er heroines; but she once pointed out to a friend
at Foleshill that one of them was broader across than the
other, saying, with some pride, that it was due to the quan-
tity of butter and cheese she had made during her housekeep-
ing days at Griff. It will be remembered that this is a
characteristic attributed to the exemplary Nancy Lammeter,
whose person gave one the idea of "perfect, unvarying neat-
ness, as the Body of a little bird," only her hands bearing "the
traces of butter-making, cheese-crushing, and even still coarser
work." Certainly the description of the dairy in ' Adam Bede,'
and all the processes of butter-makiug, is one which only com-
plete knowledge could have rendered so perfect. Perhaps no
scene in all her novels stands out with more lifelike vividness
than that dairy which one could have sickened for in hot, dusty
streets : " Such coolness, such purity, such fresh fragrance of
new pressed cheese, of firm butter, of wooden vessels per-
petually bathed in pure water; such soft coloring of red
earthenware and creamy surfaces, brown wood and polished
tin, gray limestone and rich orange-red rust on the iron
weights and hooks and hinges."
This life of "mixed practical activity and intellectual pur-
suits came to an end in 1841, when Mr. Evans relinquished
Unff House, and the management of Sir Roger Newdigate's
estates, to his married son, and removed with his dauehte • to
Foleshill, near Coventry.
I
YOUTHFUL STUDIES AND FBIKNDSH1P&
CHAPTEB III.
TOCTHFUL STTOIM AND FBIENDSU^PS. .
tn,e that the m t ab.le^m .°>en and women. It ia
future author w.TpSceVo?t'^^'^Hr\*'T "'^'"^ '^«
by the growing b^/p~r S^'Z^ThT f''""'"^
^aTtirsrei^t^^^^^^^
deUghta, rarely tgrnbeC'''"*Tt"' '° ''^''"' imagination
engendered to be carrieTrt" in f^ ' ^. *'"''' *''" '"J"'" ««
de Vigny says truly eno„;h.' ""' '""*""^ "' ^"«- ^^"1
" Qn'eat-ce qa'mie imuide Tie i
Uoe pe..,e de la jeans™,, exSe ^ I'ig. »„.»
tha'flT^V*J:4rSe°"^ r /•"'^"""^ "P-i"-
unhesitating acquiescence becol-K^ °^ *'"' '"'"°'"' ''i'''
passionate questionfag 'iStW U f l'"*"' ''P«<'"i'"i°» and
intellect, stimulated by tie se„^f „? taken upon trust. The
unchecked capacity, delights In eL-'^P^"'*'°« """^ ''i*«rt<'
cally passing^n ^'vieTth optaorrw'" '?'""^'' ''^ <="«"
fflouly accepted as unalterable Z^' 'Hv' '""^'^'i^s com-
! active, the heart is sturmore 'so TV •^"' '"*'""'" " ">»"
t'me of enthusiastic frieSo 1/ ," " ""IP^atically the
alsoof cnieldiseachantrentandd^ilf"^"^ 1°^^' " °^^
raphies, therefore, this phLe of ^if "'"°''' . ° ""°'" '"°8-
than instructive. ForitsWt^ .•'•i'° '«" fasciuating
»tage of growth alrej;^^^^'^ '''''""' '''"'' »*'" '" a
oomiug a motive power a^corZ<r to ti' ""^'^""m"'- and be-
lectual and moral endowments ^ '°'^"™ °^ ^'« '»'«!-
entcVr Sorhilfshra^f^S^^ ^''^^ ^ - -
edge and universality of cS'tK ^' '*°^^ "^ '^"'"'l-
guished her. ^ ^'"^ '^''«='' 8° eminently distin-
xzlv
OEORQB EUOT.
\l
The house she now inhabited, though not nearly as pictur.
esque or substantial as the former home of the Evanses was
yet sufficiently spacious, with a pleasant garden in front and
behind it; the latter, Marian Evans was fond of making as
much like the delicious garden of her childhood as was pos-
sible under the circumstances. In other respects she greatlv
altered her ways of life, cultivating an ultra-fastidiousness in
her manners and household arrangements. Though so vounir
she was not only entire mistress of her father's estt;.'='hmenl'
but, as his business required him to be abroad the grenier nart
of each week, she was mostly alone.
Her life now became more and more that of a student, one
of her chief reasons for rejoicing at the change of residence
being the freer access to books. She had. however, alreadv
amassed quite a library of her own by this time. In addition
to her private studies, she was now also able to have masters to
instruct her m a variety of subjects. The Eev. T Sheen-
shanks, head master of the Coventry Grammar-school, gave
her lessons m Greek and Latin, as she particularly wished to
learn the former language in order to read .«)schylus She
continued her study of French, German, and Italian under the
tuition of Signor Brezzi, even acquiring some knowledge of
Hebrew by her own unassisted efforts. Mr. Simms the
veteran organist of St. Michael's Coventry, instructed her in
<,t/ir°^°'^' *"•' probably Rosamond Vincy's teacher in
Middlemarch ' is a faithful portraiture of him. " Her master
at Mrs. Lemon's school (close to a country town with a
memorable history that had its relics in church and castle)
was one of those excellent musicians here and there to be
found in the provinces, worthy to compare with many a noted
Kapellmeister m a country which ofters more plentiful condi- '
bons of musi^ celebrity." George Eliofs sympathetic ren-
« K°£.l *7°"*'' composers, particularly Beethoven and
Schubert, was always delightful to her friends, although con-
noisseurs considered her possessed of little or no strictly
technical knowledge Be that as it may, many an exquisite
passage scattered up and down her works, bears witness to her
heartfelt appreciation of music, which seems to have had a
more intimate attraction for her than the fine arts. She shows
fiue «onu«ent of lady Jane C ^/I ''''' ' -J^-""""? a
^thio art at Astley Church wi^' «""""« "P^^i^en of old
-t wrutiafixro^S'eSjfrt °^ ^--'^ «« ia
the house of one of her marrie^h^lf 'l'*"'^ °^ ^'^o^-- In
tW« f "l""* "«"«« and profoZllt „ff .'.° ''''"«^' showing
^ time she must hare ofte^ C ^ affectionate nature. At
being cut off from thatH^ feHol^ P""^"! "onsciousn ss^f
to tllT"' *° *'''' «telK S'^P,:'"' the like-minded
J«e, however, at once viTifvin.,)^\-''®°''«^''e8. A fresh
she formed with Mr. and mT^^^'^J."*^^ friendship
StT^°^^:t::SS^r°=o:^
r--":trir;££^^:^s^t:
-vSnl L"r ^^-S 'Sl^L-Xfse'iir""'"^^^^^^^
TbeSetSkirM^^"^*'" ^"''^«°"- "" """^
^£5«a^t:r:sllv"^--£
I ^"'"'bitants of a tVarwictshirA t*^ """'^ '^^^ t^e sober
rl'
i
; '
xzvi
OEOBOE EUOT.
Mr. Bray wag a wealthy ribbon manufacturer, but had
become engrossed from an early age in religious and meta-
physical speculation as well as in political and social questions.
Beginning to inquire into the dogmas which formed the basis
of his belief, be found, on careful inyestit;ation, that they did
not stand, in his opinion, the test of reason. His arguments
set his brother-in-law, Mr. Charles C. Hennell, a Unitarian, to
examine afresh and go carefully over the whole tpround of
popular theology, the consequence of this close study being
the ' Inquiry concerning the Origin of Christianity,' a work
which attracted a good deal of attention when it appeared, and
was translated into German at the instance of David Strauss.
It was published in 1838, a few years after the appearance of
the ' Life of Jesus.' In its critical examination of the miracles,
and in the sifting of mythological from historical elements in
the Gospels, it bears considerable analogy to Strauss's great
work, although strictly based on independenu studies, being
originally nothing more than an attempt to solve the doubts of
a small set of friends. Their doubt? were solved, but not in
the manner originally anticipated.
Mrs. Bray, of an essentially religious nature, shared the
opinions of her husband and brother, and without conforming
to the external rites and ceremonies of a creed, led a life of
saintly purity and self-devotion. The exquisite beauty of her
moral nature not only attracted Marian to this truly amiable
woman, but filled her with reverence, and the friendship then
commenced was only ended by death.
In Miss Sara Hennell, Marian Evans found another congenial
companion who became as a sister to her. This singular
being, in most respects such a contrast to her sister, high-
strung, nervouF xcitable, importing all the ardor of feeling
into a life of austere thought, seemed in a manner mentally to
totter under the weight of her own immense metaphysical
speculations. A casual acquaintance of these two young
ladies might perhaps have predicted that Miss Hennell was
the one destined to achieve fame in the future, and she
certainly must have been an extraordinary mental stimulus to
her young friend Marian. These gifted sisters, two of a
family, all the members of which were remarkable, by some
^J
TOOTHPCL «.™z.8 ^ PKIENBSHIPS. xxvii
*-» already, or ultimately £^L"'?'^.f *^" ^emal group
"PU.*. A reviewer in "he ^«, • *""'°' °* "■°«' or lew
philosophical publications T^?""'*'' ^"''"8 °* Mr. Bray"
would reduce his many^'rk'T ^'^" »K°. «aid: "If he
essential, he would ZbtJeJs obt.r.r*^°'"» "°*Wngu^
thephilosophersof ourcoXtowhlh e' "'«" ^"^ ''^^S
entitle him." His most popufar W n' P"''"" °^ though?
o he Peelings/ intenderfor JT^' T"^? '^^-^ ^ducatfon
^•th the laws of morality prIcZllv « v*I '"'^°*"''' <»«»•«
T^ntings, on the same order „f{.*PP^'*^- Mrs. Bray's
•implified for the unders^n^- 'f J*"''' '^ "*"! further
authoress of • Phygiolo* * i"« °^ """"dren. She :" th!
'Elements of MoS^^eS' 'He?'^n ?* British Empiet
become a class book in thrsowT T"^ *° Animals' hai
and she was one of the first amo^i%f *'"' ""'dland counties'
and women who have endeS ^ '" "-"^-hearted men
degree of humanity into our t'eltien^ 'f ""?"'"' " «"'''«
«3eorge Eliot, writing to Mrs R™- "//"""als.
^eiy subject, says : ^ "' -^'^^ « March 1873 on this
h« trdTdlmtdeTsIhl^T^r^' ^-»' M«- S—
of the best Italians in W a ^?''"'' ^^'^ ^^ t^e sympath;
«hief point in trying to fmnl"!'"?' '^°^'- Of course^
kindness to anim^alsf and a fr^eL oVl^''^ " '^ *«»<'»' '^'m
to her a small sum of monev - fift ^"".^ ^'^ <=°nfided
applied to the translation and nub&""^'' ^ *Wnk-to be
for young people, which would t^fu?" f '"""^ «°°^ ^ooks
sympathy Witt dumb crel^.^ '"^'^ *° ""^« « ">- a
S-te SVSd-Vr^^ ^"°^ *° ^-'"- Mr.
""■mals, and also byteffi"^ 1^^ " "°?^ "^ ^""^ l»°k on
parts of the book fir^t appfa,^d a^ w^,™"'?' '"^^^"^ the
other works which you tWnk wo;m ll "" *''« *'*^«» "^ any
the purpose in question? '^ ''°"'' "^''tioning for
;Wow"f f^J,^;"/^^£ yo^^^ »ay probably know) is the
--hantsare.andtllS:S^,7-^^^y
i^^
SXTili
OBORGE ELIOT.
few. She knows aU lorts of good work for the world, and is
known by most of the workers. It struck me, while she was
speaking of this need of a book to translate, that you had
done the very thing."
A few days later the following highly interesting letter
came from the same source:
"Many thanks for the helpful things you hare sent me.
'The Wounded Bird' is charming. But now something very
much larger of the same kind must be written, and you are
the person to write it — something that will bring the
emotions, sufferings, and possible consoktions of the dear
brutes vividly home to the imaginations of children: fitted for
children of all countries, as Beineke Fuchs is comprehensible
to all nations. A rough notion came to me the other day of
supposing a house of refuge, not only for dogs, but for all dis-
tressed animals. The keeper of this refuge understands the
langTiage of the brutes, which includes differences of dialect
not hindering communication even between birds and dogs by
the help of some Ulysses among them who is versed in the
various tongues, and puts in the needed explanations. Said
keeper overhears his refugees solacinc their evenings by tell-
ing the story of their experiences, and finally acts as editor
of their autobiopaphies. I imagine my long-loved fellow,
creature, the ugly dog, telling the sorrows and the tender
emotions of gratitude which have wrought him into a sensitive
soul. The donkey is another cosmopolitan sufferer, and a
greater martyr than Saint Lawrence. If we only knew what
fine motives he has for his meek endurance, and how he loves
a fnend who will scratch his nose 1
«A1) this is not worth anything except to make you feel how
much better a plan you can think of.
"Only you must positively write this book which every-
body wants -this book which will do justice to the share our
'worthy fellow-laborers' have had in the groaning and tra-
vailing of the world towards the birth of the right and fair
But you must not do it without the 'sustenance of labor'
— I don t say ' pay,' since there is no pay for good work. Let
Mr. . be blest with the blessing of the unscrupulous. I
want to contribute something towards helping the brutes, and
TODTHm STUDIES AND FBIENDSniPa «U
write the needed book myse fTt I fL '""r^- ' «»»'»
««^th.t you will not reSthe duty .^*^ """ "^' y°" <"">.
irath::;dr:CrEL's':^^^^^^^^ -y be
la teaching children, and aWrlLe th« l^ '^°"' '"P"'^*'
, •" The Wounded Bird ' is irfect „? 1^"^"}°° '''''«■
is the best for a larger work You ° »""*' ""* ''^^ '''"d
ia an exceptional c^e fT;.nyZZZ JT''^'^^ '»■«' '*
for children without putting^ thL f ^ "' '° ''"^ ^^''
as devout religion. And you are one ome"'""^'^ ''^«""«"*
I am quite sure, from what vnn h! V ""^P'-onal cases,
the thing which is s«U wanted to L' . "' '^^ ^""^ '"'° ^°
-iptn't :f s htr ^srr^ ^'^ f -<*«' -d
much later period, not onlgive "n id^ fT^ ''""*" "^ »
Bray's literary pursuits but of f h. i • ^f ^''^ '"**"™ "^ *f"-
patible with the scZ of th« ""^Jf ^-^atter than is com-
best-known books e^^titled .tCZ""'";/" °°« °^ "«'
makes the daring attemrTtl, Thoughts m Aid of Faith,' she
her mode orThougrX^n.T "'' '?'""°" °^ ^'ig'""'
the mystical. For the p^se"? *L " °^ *''" '"'^''tifie and
very few women .t' Ce'tnt^^rZ 1"^ °"* °/ *"«
losophy; and, curiously enough W If • """* °^ P*"'-
should be a feminine method in ml* f ""^ " *'^*' *•""«
masculine, the sexes, accordrnVtothT,?^^,'''"^^ '«" ^' »
their counterpart in reS fnH »«8«lar theory, finding
bercd that George EHot^i" one of T"'' '' ''^^ "^ ^"'^•"^
that women should endeavor to „!>« ""'T' " "^ "P*"'""
»ine contribution, trthe [nte ^^.1 '°'°«.'J'«ti"«tively femi-
raying. "Let the who e fi ^^te^''^, '^^y engage in,
« well as to man, and thtn°^tS'-Sir p^lit rC
ri:
' >l
*** OKOROE KLIOT.
diioord aad repulsion between the seiei, will be found to be »
neceiMiy complement to the truth and beauty of life. Then
we shall have that marriage of minda which alone can blend
all the hues of thought and feeling in one lovely rainbow of
promise for the harvest of happiness." Something of the
same idea lies at the root of much in Miss Hennell's mystical
disquisitions. -.j-.iawu
This circumstantial account of the circle to which Miss
Evans was now introduced has been given, because it con-
sisted of friends who, more than any others, helped in the
growth and formation of her mind. No human being, indeed,
can be fully understood without some knowledge of the oom-
panions that at one time or other, but especially during the
period of development, have been intimately associated with
his or her life. However vastly a mountain mav appear to
loom above u« from the plain, on ascending to its "summit on.
always finds innumerable lesser eminences which all help in
making up the one imposing central effect And simUarly in
the world of mind, many superior natures, in varying degrees,
all contribute their share towards the maturing of that
exceptional intellectual product whose topmost summit is
genius.
The lady who first introduced Marian Evans to the Brays
was not without an object of her own, for her young friend —
whose religions fervor, tingad with evangelical sentiment was
as conspicuous as her unusual learning and thoughtfulness —
seemed to her peculiarly fitted to exercise a beneficial in-
fluenoe on the Eosehill household, where generally unoriJiodox
opinions were much in vogue.
Up to the age of seventeen or eighteen Marian had been
considered the most truly pious member of her family, beinir
earnestly bent, as she says, " to shape this anomalous English
Christian life of ours into some consistency with the spirit
and simple verbal tenor of the New Testament." "I was
brought up," she informs another correspondent "in the
Church of England, and have never joined any other religious
society; but I have had close acquaintance with many dis-
■enters of various sects, from Calvinistio Anabaptists to
TOUTHFUL 8TCD«8 AND PKIENDSHIPa ,„,
UnitarimM." Her inn.. ii#. ... ». •
»ive unitjr »nd.«notity to the oono^n!^^ "^ '.^"' ''^'«'' •»'<»'W
.wa.a "that reoogaUion of ,o3rt:'J.'r' 'j'"'"' '"""W
>^^» mere -ati.f.otion of ,elf. whUh 1 1? l** ^''f?./°' '^>°''d
aldiWon of a ereat ™nf™T i ■ """ ™°«^ We what the
time ^y'^nXulZ^jSnTAZTt::'''V''''" ^* -«
ditiOM of . religion life "rth /llTh k """ ""•"'"»' o°n-
nature .he flung her whole lo^ f, ! vehemence of an ardent
the teaching of ChViaTianitn * r""'"""" ""^eptaMoe of
asoetioiam. ^"""'"""'y. oarrymg her zeal to the pitch of
whSeTrunUr^Xltrt^hin ''" '^^ °' '"-*«-.
E izabeth Evan. (whoWe ^1,^°^ *? 'J*^ '''^ '""• Mr.
with Dinah Morri.) wTa %^^'"^ *° ■» largely identified
time been a noted prea^er but h. ^'.'^'^'"'' ^'^'^g at one
vm,.t, hardly thought her d^testrlir''' "\" * "^'^^ Cal-
fame aunt paid her a visit .o^r °* *°°"»1'- When thi.
Ml. Marian^ view. hl^^rZyZ'^ '^'«""»''''' »' ^^ole !
formation, and their interco^^w^ f'^,"*.'' "'"»?•«'« ''»".-
for the young evangelical oXfa^ vh!.m'""* '^"^"^ i
•n clerical circle., wa. now in^wW .h J^*^ ^^ " ^"'o^te
asa-'crudeetateof freethintiL . 'j^ '^'"""'«'» -^^ooribed
-nth^n,. Which .he Sr^ ^^^^^^^^^
=rciritai"dtf '=— - -
their vitality; yeta br^ak wHh an inT*f f "* ^"^ """^ '"St
which a thousand tender J.i?"'"t"*'?.^°™°^'^''«f to
trophe .he shrank from whH ^L ^^T. ^" '"" * '»*^-
tal uncertainty and trouble In^" °"' * ^""^ °f men-
questionings, it happened that the 7*^"*^. "^ *''«''« '"''""i
h
UXll
OIOBOX EUOT.
her in this oriiit of her .piritu«l life, and iha found it
•n iutenw wlief to M no long., l^J„d T rS^non. J,
Sip '"'^""^ p^-ptionfwith. palm':?
The antagonism ihe met with In certain quarten the looi.!
p.r.eoutjou from which ,l>e h«l much to .X"™^^
re.pon«bIe tor .ome of the tha^r,, cauatio .W wTth wWo'?
Minster ii«n«u> ,he mainly eipresaed the thought, which
S ^h ',%•"" ^^ '^ '''P°*'"°° "''• encountered auS
ti^lef . W w^' ~ "■ " ""^P^"' '" 'he brilliant paper en'
«!h. .. '^'"'*" *'"' Other-Worldlinee.,' which^talns
•uoh a scathing passage as the following • contains
and sor^w. of o" £n'' "" ^^""^ P»rti"P«'ion in the joy.
ana sorrows of our fellow-men, a magnanimous acceptance of
privation or .uffering for oars^Ir^ ■ when 'n, fhTT^S-l-
of good to others, in I word, the ex J S and int nStlo"
contend that they have no more direct relation to tbe Zief
that to some minds^hl ^^V<^t^:/\^Zn Z'ZZtot
human morality _ that we are here for a little while and then
vanish away, that this earthly life is ah f.at Triven to our
oved ones, and to our many buffering follow-men^^lL, nla^r
the fountains of moral emotion than the concep ion of H-
tended existence.-. . . To us it is matter of unmixed reioio-
•ng tha this latter necessity of healthful life is independen
of theoogical ink, and that its evolution is insured in th«
interaction of human souls as certainly as the evolut "n o?
science or of art, with which, indeed, it is but a tw n "a,
melting into them with undefinable limits." ^'
»h i7''»^ """v* ■ '""^'table that her changed tone of mind
SfndlafrhTtT."' "'•' ^''"■"'-'1 ^'■-''"ot
Marian, and that the backsliding of so exemplary a member
should afford matter for scandal in many a ZiZ ciXnd
rov:a,VL studies a».> friendships. x„ui
neighborlyintiiDaoybetweenth8tw„„ ^"'^ ,'«d been muoU
there wa. only fl/e vel™' Hi» '"" J'°"°8 ladie., and though
|Uw.y.in.pi„5 herCw'^'XiS^^-" ""■"' ^-'"
leotiuU superiority. Yet h.r «» i °' '"' *' *■" i"««l-
with .11 human life which wL theT^^^'V "y"?''''')'
character — wae even thl • '.'"'"S^t element of her
trouble of Ma^', We i^'iT """'tible 'hat every little
.udden dUcoveTy of theTr dinlC* ,'° 'V J'' ' "'8' ^ut the
came with the shock of a JhunL/^ ""■"* ^'''« '" "'"Sdel "
hot argument paeTed between th;''' "? ""■ P*""**- ^''''h
oontrover.iali,rbut the'oi^e cli^^l!'!,^?"'' .'"' y°"">ful
by a triumpha;t reference to the H ""* '''°'« I""'"""
throughout the world « an ir™fuihl.''''*T? 1^ *'" •'""'
«piration of the Bible In sdte ^f .J^'""^ °' '^e divine in-
-ligiou, question., M^, Evanrwa/.'utdlo r""'""
the minister's dn-ghter Ies»nn. f„ >il *f° °" 8"''"8
tinued for two or?h«e 4a™ ,i« ^™'"'' '''''"' ^^^ <">"-
taken this labor of ove twieel' tJZ'"^ generously under-
the shape of her young riendrheJd T'" ""l' ^"""^"^ '"'"'
in those days -that she must hav«^ ~ P^^nology being rife
But, better than lanBua™, »?. I k!*v''"*°' ""''"'''"■'ding,
always cutting short S '1^7?' ^"^ ""o ^"'"o ot tini.
Altogether t/e wonderfu7 TenJ^h if ^ "'"P'^ ''^°""«f '''
fested itself even at this earW^L • "l ?«"<"«'"'? mani-
"ion it left on her pupi!?s l,Z.^ 'n the indelible impres-
""naming graven on ^a. on .tone ^' "-7 °.* ber sayings
one day twitting Mary's t^ JelT ..if I ' """"""«' '''"">
"Weareveryapttomea^uXfri '"'^■'»*^*™ "he remarked,
of our perfoTmrnce ."TwhenTn ??h''T'"PJ.'*"°" *"«'^'"i
the meaning of Faust ?" she rUi^d'-Th:""' " '^'''""
meaning of the universe" WhT ' I " °* *» 'be
i^yer- with her younronoil Z I "f '"« ' »'«"««'<«'»■.
■ife-like the chaSrs'^ d' '^.^nftr'' '"-j; how
AnH ettdia';::: tz''-' «■? - -«'~'iifr'^
r1
XXXIT
GEOEGE ELIOT.
Wi« tt!t nn """/' *'{»« """sequence of her change of views
dom Ignorance gives itself airs of knowledge and selfithnTl.
turning its eyes upwards, calls itself religb^' |he tfthe
other hand, after a painful struggle wanted tn ZTl
from the old forms of worship, and rrfZdIo ,o ^ .^^
ingr^Td^-^et wCcTrn^^^^^
r ira-tii'rh-r i^^^^^^
froTb^gLtgl S™'"' '° "'^ ^-^^ ^'"« throug^agaln
They met daily and in tht'S " W^S : Te'^
nature expanded no less than her intellect. Although striken J
ordinary acquaintances by an abnormiil ^.^'f v ^'"^'"8
Pletolyather ease she at^t^ef Sled Zf^i^^r,
gayety, irradiated by the unexpected flashesof a wi 'th^e m
TOUTH.CL STUBIE8 AND PRIBNDSHIPS x„.
jorld. For her conveUioa wL Z^^r"" ?°='"°» ■» *»"«
depth, and comprehensiveness Tat alT^t '". ^"" °^ •'^''™.
atale and oommonrplaoe. Cy were th^^.^"".^'^" ^een^ed
days between Mr. Bray and Marian I ''"""'»«i°'"" in those
quently broken off in fieree dSutron/^""' ^""^ '^""S'' f'e-
began again qnite amicab^ the next TT^' '^^^ ''^^'^y^
ercised considerable influence on ht . ^/*^ P""'**''/ «-
his impressible period of lU^ IZn u ^ ^"^^-^'^ -"ind at
losophy was first roused by a^sa^^tT " *"'"''°" '° PW-
^ned acquirements in thi! i^^^^^ ''"'^ ^i«. and his
"^^^ Br^;s St *° ^^^^o:x-' '''-^' ^^
Jfecessity,'^hTproble.S'disTu:''^^°"' ^'^ '^Wlosophy of
which have occupldthMefZhLf"^'\^ "^"^ «« 'hose
Comte in his "Positive PhZph^'^''" °['''« ^ay: Augusta
of Civilization; ' and Mr. Herberf V. "" ^" '^'''"'•y
The theory that, as an indzvSl '"^ °n '° ^'^ 'Sociology.'
■nuoh subject to law as any oTth« 0.^'"""^'^' ■°^" "^
was one of those magnificent «„= "^P"- ^-f^es in nature,
world of thought. M^nv °^-„^T '"""^ revolutionize the
-^fferentcalibre^were^rtr^ng^" f^^'^"' --tries, o
fdge ttere was on this suh^7ctfn ^r^J .""*'"* ^^** '^»°wl-
into demonstration. To what extend t'T*'' '•yP°*I'«»«
based his 'PhUosophy of Keces3itv^° I ^^^^ "^^ I'are
" bow much wa^ mere^ 3,1"/^ P'"'*''"' ™««^'«b,
fources we cannot here inqui?^ En™ \ I?™ """t^-nporar;
bodied in it represented some S th« *? *''*' '''^ ''J«'" «■""
J«e. and contributed therefore lo^l H^f I'*"! *°"Sht of the
George Eliot's mind, and to th« ■ \*? *''" formation of
displayed in the handHng of nhiinf ^.•''''/°^ '^' ?'«««»%
In 1842 the 8em,ation efeald bS sf *°^''''-
bad even extended to so remote a H^/ .*"'"■ -^**«' ■^««
xxiW
GEORGE ELIOT.
I
Parkes of Birmingham tTv! !^' '""^ '*'« ^^- J°seph
their enthusia^Tto Se amonTtf* '" .*"" ^"" ^^^'^ »*
be required for tCpu pose m" T^f"*' '""" '^'«^'
in this enterprise' proposed tW S?r"' w- '^'"^'''8 spirit
undertaken by Mi^s Brabant th« ''^.^'afon should be
^r Brabant, a^ohl. deeply' versed Tf "^'''T^^'^' °*
who was in friendly corresDondInn! Ik 'i'''''°Sical matters,
in Germany and with rl^^^f^ ^ TJ"" ^""^'''^ »■«» P^^lua
lady in qu^lstion, hou^h'stllT in he^f " '=°«'''"'^- ''''>
fitted for the ta^k as sh« h,/ , . '^'°°' ""^ Peculiarly
Baurs erudite w^ftL^s on the! 'f^ u*''"'^'"*^'' '"-"^ "^
But when she ha^' tfe Tl^utlnTT If'of tt 1 1 ^"f"''"
her learned labors camp t-r, „„ ^ °"' volume,
became engaged t mHeZuZfr^^ "T"'"^'""' ^ ^'^^
ments joined much winnW h, ' *° F^** '°«"*^ ^'"^1°-
her marriage iththT, ^ !, ^*°"^ °* '"^"'^e'-- And on
task as too^aborLs ' """°"' '^^ ^'^ *° '«'-q"«t her
^^^r^is£HEHH^-'-
on going to a public ball w>,»~ I tnvoUty by insisting
pointed, as partners wS^erJ 3";rce"7r:h'T. ?" ^''""^
bered that Marian Evans wY/n^f; ^*/'""'W be remem-
at this time, but, though shrhjl/^?'^-"^'^^ ?«"« old
friends already though! her a wld.rf.j; ^°'"' ^"^"'"S' ^'^
seems to have had fny real v™?hf f "^""^i"- ^^^ "«^«
appearance greatly tmproved^with ^ '"'' r"^ ^'' P*"""^'
finest natures, it should beZ t""^^ ? '' °"'y *" ">«
added beauty ;nd distinction •TA'?1"'^' *''^' *«« ^'^^^ ^'^
then worked its way to tl.ekrfLlh"'''' P*"'i'^"* ^^'^ •>««
pre8sion,and to some extenf ^ fl ^^°^ '^°^^'^ "=« ex-
^ " ,1.:.
roUTHFUL STUDIES AND FRIENDSHIPS. xxxvii
»oft pale-brown hair worn in rinuleta W« i, ^
sivo, her features powerful jmd Z„ ^ ,, ' ^^^ ''^ "-^
shapely, the jaw si^Xw square ffrl' i" """""^ '"»« ''"'
certain delicacy of outline An/? ? r"*"' ^^^ ^^^«g a-
not help to relieve th„ fV™' '°°^ "^ <=°l°"ng did
the complexion SgSew":l/r""r "' «'^"'='"«'
play of expression and ^e wonderful "Liv^T'T^^^^ '"«
which increased with aw TZ o ""''' '"J' °f the mouth,
countenance in cirious ' ^St w.uT'^ ""°"l *" '^«
eyes, of a gray-blne constenTv T ''^ ^'^amework. Her
some as intensely bluVothfit./r^'°? "" ''°'°'' »'"'«"»
weresmalland notZl'nHf 1 ^k ^ P^"' ^"shed-out gray,
animated in 'oT.^^:^^'':^!^'':^^^^^^^
seeming in a manner to twnsfieure ft So^ k ""^"'^ ^'^"'
case, that a young lady X, ifJ^V '"''' ""'" ^'i*
versation with hfr came al """^cjoyed an hour's con-
pression that s^^ZllS't 'V^'' '''" '''^ ''"-
George Eliot again whe^ ,h! ' ^"^'-'^'^'ds, on seeing
hardlybelieyehfrtobe hestn,/'^ "•" ^^"''''S. she could
nature disclosed Lelf in hV,^! P""""' ^'"^ '"^™ of her
latter recalling tCt of LrlT L^''^ '" ^'' ^"i"*- the
a soul that hSonce Led nanZkl"^ ^"^ ^"'"^ "^
and deep, yibrating with sympathf '" ^"P" '' "^ 1°'^
Mr. Bray, an enthusiastic belieyer in „k
much struck with the grand ^Z^i phrenology, was so
took Marian Eyans to London t^h,' °^ ^^' ^^"-^ ^^^* he
that, after that of Napofeon 1^^'*'^™- Rethinks
development from brow to Irnf '^ ''"'^'"* ^^^ '^'gest
similarity of type between r ^"^ P^^on's recorded. The
«.la'shrbeenXt:,rpo&:ut "°f '"l^""^ «*^^"-
natures may have led her if unnnn T '""""^ '° ">eir
epoch of Florentine life in which Z,"^"^J *° ''^"'' *''^*
a part. " '^hieh he played so prominent
th "irpSs-:: :^c;i'tiiert ' ^r° ^- p^°p'«
figure, although thin anrslLf I • *° ''"« really was, her
without a certain stur^i^'f'mat"%T"-P'''"'' ^"'^ ""*
jn health, being delicately stLg and of .T ".7'"°^""^
temperament In youth tie S^i^bk^/Lf LT^;:
xxzviii
GEORGE ELIOT.
and weaknesses of a ™oulkrivlr ' **"* ^•"''eptibilitieB
all her mental Lt vUvTh" veui f organization. With
a life which m^ h^^e heldt dlr.'^'fr'^.*'""*''""^ W«.
days she was kno^ by he, friS "t?i°' ""'l' ? '" """"^
tears." ' mends "to weep buoketfuls of
Marian EvanLent'Cgftrh' ^wtr^f T'^^
many painful experiences, before sh^Z^i. ^^u''*^ "' *''"'"8^
government of her later yea« 'i'^'^f^^'od the moral self,
likely that she could have entered w^^ J'°'' '' " ^"-"^
8ion into the most intr^te tTndil™ of f,^«P » """'P^hen-
That, of course, was to a ^r^ *^ . ""^ ^"°«° l^eart.
symp'athy bein^ Te strongs 'X^ 'oThf T^^*'^'
She flung herself, as it were intri.h ,• °'°'^' "*'»~-
affairs, their hopeMhe r so^ows her own '1' T'^''^ ""«'
of identifying herself with 77 ' , ' "^"^ '''^ PO'^er
the effect Vamafett aH Pr^'^^^^^ «>■"« "ear had
If friends went tTrrnthpfr^f ''f ^"•"'■C'eatures.
only that she entered with . i"',.*'''^ ''""''^ fi""! °ot
minute concerns, but that h^ deep feeling into their most
beyond their wrsonJ i .^^ gradual degrees, she lifted them
her presence rantn^h?;'' fV"** '^''^ ''°^^ ^^'"-
This sympathy w^ cZV ^""^ "^T^ ^«^« "^ ""^d.
detecting and res^ndii/f ^ T^ ""'^^ ^«' f'«'"% of
Socrates in her manner rfedtinfww'"'"^'^ resembled
thought might be latent in the ZTr^*' '^P*"'? f°'
with: were it only a sLlI ^°^^! "''« <»'°« i" "ontact
never rest till she had ftund ouTin whT""?"'*'' "'"' ^^-^
lar man differed fror other me„ nfv* ^ '^* P*^'"""
rather educed what was in of hT.K •' '''^''- ^'^^ ^^""^y-
them, showing murkrndt' *''r '"P'^'^^d herself on
=. tS £e^ «rf ^- - '^-- - -
Pledge Of :c:^xr^^'^^ -^ --
TBAlfSLATION OP STRAUSS, ETC.
CHAPTEE IV.
zxxix
TBANSLAtlOV OF 8TBAC88 xvn ,.
while It was settled that M^ X l"''^- ^» *« Mean-
translationofDr.StrausslxX^"'"'' should continue he°
duotion to literature wm in a ena^' ■^'"'^ !>«' first intro'
proved her admirably fiied for tL.T*^?*^'- ^he result
this searching and volumfnot *ott "' ^°' Perversion of
of clear nervous English ST. ™'"*"'^ » masterpiece
'ng the spirit of thTS^* '^ZT """^ '"''"""^ rend^^
undertaking, requiring TtrgelaJn" ^* ^"d laborious
e-ergy, quite apart fr!m the fec^ss^/' ^f?'"'"' ^'". ^"d
On this occasion, to fit herself ^o^^T**; qualifications,
test. Marian taught herself rconsMer^hl^^ ^°' ^*' ^^gJ^'y
But she groaned, at times, uXt^"' ^"°""' °* Hebrew,
which had necessarily to 4 enduL^ '','""'"'« °f the toil
Imquish what must often have !i!';'''l* ^^-^P'^d to re-
drudgery.. The active interert J/"' ^""'" intolerable
fnends, however, tided her over l«r''°""'««'»""'' °f ier
^ment, and after three yelrs '/t.'^r'"''' °^ '''=«our-
the t«nslation was finally Set^/!!"fr '^PP^oation,
Dr. (then Mr.) John Chapman in 184fi t. ^'°"«''* °"' W
to assume that the composition nf ^'," Probablysafe
George Eliot half the eCand t^^Z"^ *" "ovelf cost
had done Yet so badly is this kbd of r^" '^^ translation
aerated, that twenty pounds wi th«. '."^ ^"''^ ^«'nu.
cost three years of hard Ta Jr^ ^''^ """» Paid for what had
Indeed, by this time, most of th. . ,
onginally guaranteed hTsIm „t ''^' ^"^"''^ ^ho bad
and publication of the ' Life of r«« T^ t"' ^^' translation
gotten the matter; and ha^ it n„"I T ^'^ conveniently fo°
Mr. Joseph Parked wW^,^,";*!^;'' for the generosUy o"
^nds, ^ho i„„^^ '^^^ long the MS tr'^T"' *'"' """^'^T
lain dormant in a drawer at^oles^t' T '*'°" "''S''* '""^
-lesmu, It no sooner saw the
" GEORGE ELIOT.
m!rL^„7tr'' '^^ a'T^ '""' 'e«°8°"'"i the exceptional
merits of the work. And for several years afterwards Mi^s
s^rssrx'rsi.'^ ^'^^"^ ■'°'"'° - '•■« ^-^^^^^^ <>'
hon, Miss Evans went to stay for a time with her friend^
fa h r, Dr. Brabant, who sadly felt the loss of his daughter's
mtelhgent and enlivening companionship. No doubt the
soaetyof this accomplished scholar, described by Mr. Grote
as "a vigorous self-thinking intellect," wa^ no less congenid
than instructive to his young companion; while her sinrjar
gr:;fult1r/°t i^;''""^'^ womanly ways were^:
grateful to the lonely old man. There is something verv
attractive in this episode of George Eliot's life. It fecS
rt/r.^ ^ ^ recurring situation in her novels, particularly
that touching one of the self-renouncing devotiok with Xch
he ardent Eomola throws herself into her XtTifarher's
learned and recondite pursuits. a^'i-wo latners
.J^^7. "i*^ " ^^"*'' ''"*'*" *° a° intimate friend in 1846
sClH **;' '■•anslation of Strauss wa^ finished, whicri
this delightfully humorous mystification of her friends Miss
Evans pretends that, to her gratification, she has ^7 had
a visit from a real live German professo^, whorm^^ 2"on
was encased in a still mustier coat. This learned Xs^n!™
ha. come over to England with the singi; purpT/e o^ettffg
his voluminous writing, translated int^ English. There arf
at least twenty volumes, all unpublished, owing to the enviou^
machinations of rival, authors, none of ihem t^reatl of any
thing more modern than Cheops, or the invention of the
fh^tif ■ 'f""™ * ^'^^ and translator in one But
though, on inquiry he finds that the ladies engaged °nt ans'
ation are legion, they mostly turn out to be u^fy incompe
sits" The""" rrf' *° ""'' -quirements^in oXr
respects The qualifications he looks for in a wife besides I
thorough acquainunce with English and German, befnglr^
hunwitha moderate aUowance of tobacco and ScZaS.
TBAUSIATION OF STRAUSS, ETC.
xli
Mter defraying the expense of nriatin» ., u u
^S^PW, a.on« Zen /e^^S t'£:eX'o?a"t
In Miss Erans, so she runs on fi,« » • •
his utmost wishes realized and »!fl^'"°* P™^^'""" finds
spot; thinking that it may be her ,LT>f'' *" ^'' °° ^^^
him with equal celeritT i,d w % !t ''^^'"^' ^^^ a^^epts
objecting to\ fore£et'irL„ced .^ "'• '''V^°"8'' «*'°-8ly
the same reason. The Ws "nt ti'* w> •=°"««"' fo'
future husband shall take hef out ol En? . " ""*' ^"
phmate and drearier inhabitants ^hf^' '''*^ ''^ '^™''^
r?lae^rnJ?-;° ^ ^ -'-^^ffist
'^^"o:^'-^/^^^^ --est man-
the very Sisyphus' o^^tttS' rtft'^'r ^'"^'•~°
marry her parohment-bound su tor for t), I' *°°' ''''^*°8 t"
«g in his abstruse mental laC 1 h, K^^-^ °^ co-operat.
of the simple-minded xCthoT' ^' * *^' adumbration
But these sudden stirrines af- «„•„;« i ■
vent Miss Evans from unde^k2" T" ""°" ^'^ »°* P'«-
her last, if „ot so laboriZ Shl^ °*^" ^^' si-^ilar to
Ludwig Feuerba<,h's X","^- J%»?7 ««' ^»»"t translating
philosopher, who kepTZf from w *""•*■ ™« -J"*"?
dwelt apart in a wood, tharhe m?^^?^^ '°"^ ^°''°'«' »d
tions of theology and metaphysics W.^.^T *° ^^^^^'^ "!«««-
had created a g4t sensatTnrhis ^hil'o^ v ' f'"^''^^^^,
Germany. U„iike his countrvm.n P^V'osophical criticism in
subjects are usually rnveSTn ' I^°''-^"''"8« °° "^ese
that their most perilonsTde^l " T f° ™P«°etrable mist
of the multitudeVFeaerUch by h s Wn'''''^""''' *^« heads
g?age and luminouaness of Moos.h-nn """."'^^ness of Ian-
h« meaning home to the aver^°'J^ •^'"i'»'«'i to bring
^oount of the 'Essence of Christ^itv ' '^k ^'- <^*'-°«"'«
Bntannica,' admirably concise^ H^ f ' 'Encyclopedia
conveying i„ the fewest Z^ l'^' "1^ 'l ''"°'«"«™' "»
treatise, where Feuerbaeh Thows lll^ °^ *''''' "*^°"'"'
s^ow* that every article of Chris-
xlii
GEORGE ELIOT.
ti^ belief corresponds to some instinct or necessity of man's
nature, from wliich he infers that it is the creation and em!
bodiment of some human wish, hope, or apprehension. . .
Following up he hint of one of the oldest Greek philosophers,
he demonstrates that religious ideas have their oounteV'
Suet" ° '""^"' """^ "'""°'"' "^' ""^y """* ^ it*
The translation of the 'Essence of Christianity' was also
published by Mr. Chapman in 1864. It anoeared in h1^
'Quarterly Series,' destined "to consist of woTs by 1 Led
nh2o:r°H-^v"'f''"' ^"''''^'"^ "■« subjecL of 'theoTogyt
P^thT i^ f f """"■' *■"* ^^^ ^^^'°'y of opinion^:
s^?.««i^, i^"'',?" *°""'' translation had been so eminently
work. But there was no demand for it in England, and Mr
Chapman lost heavily by its publication.
About the same period Miss Evans also translated Spinoza's
DeDeo for the benefit of an inquiring friend. But her E^g!
stlTfr" f t\'f'^^'' "^ "<" undertaken till the yl
herself to the severe labor of rendering one philosophi Jwork
ei^ h! • /"'^* '°"'^ °* '•'" "'°«' ^'t^l P'oWems which
engage the mind when once it has shaken itaelf free from
purely traditional beliefs, rather than on securing f» he "eW
aSLrr.r'.fT**^'- ^"' ^" admirable%ranslat?ons
J^^ I ^°'""' °^ ** like-minded, and she became
^ tTme •°°"' °^ *^' "°'" distinguished men of
he J^nlTi^l?**^^ ter father's health now began to fail, causing
n!,» 1, . ^"' """^ *°"*'>'- ^* ^o-na P«"°d during his ill-
^S^Afr^'p "*^" many years afterwards, she says, "The
littTetf ^"""^'=°Vy°" ""fading must be the series of
wh re I J^"r! ^°" '*"* ■"" *° ''^"y *» the Isle of Wight,
Where I read it at every interval when my father did not want
ToLrf T '°"/ *^'* *^' '°°8 °°^«I '^^ not longer. ItTa
wl have fiSLn oTr'\""""« ''"'^ «"i°^"« ^^''^^o-
we Have fallen on an evil generation whg ivould not read
TRANSLATION OP 8THAU88, ETC.
preasnt admiration is mori trSi^^^^^
ph^es about their o»r„ classics » ' ^^^ '*"«« »«*
ai.^rtCuro7::a:L?kr.^ '^^^ ^" •^-^'^'o' -
.everal hour, of each day "fhe mus t^s h ""L' *" '"" ^»
versed in his manner ot mine il,!l ^^^ '*''°'°«' deeply
bued to delight all her Ufe and in ."'\'" """'' ''^<' ''°"-
•°8 of onr sympathies wWch a pieture7f 1°' "' '?" "'■'«°-
o.^L..ieMue.lehaclit.s Z^-:^Z^^J^^:?^-
W ?rr::ao:„^?S^^^^^^ ^^ the death of
seemed to afford consolation to her ;,i.f i '"''"'^^ °°tWng
two had kept house togX and?h ' t °l "«'" y*»" '^esf
had always subsisted between them M^'* """""' '^^''tion
her father's memory. AsQeoree Hin. ^f '"'' '«'«'"'<"J
her w ks everything assooUtefwfth h ^VnT'' '"Jf"''" '"
those happy times when stanHin^ w ,° ''*■' "WMhood;
she nsed t^ be driven\ Wm ^^0^" '""/"«'«'''> k'^ees
groups of inhabitants were L dUtiloH^'^^ '"^•^'«' '''«>'>«
as If they belonged to different r!.^/".'"^ imagination
Evans, however, was not suffered toLT "^ *'"' 'f'°'^-" Miss
tender friends who cared for ^ert.°/'"'°'"^°'^<'- The
tour to the Continent ?nhoLtha^,L"?'' """^ ^^^'^'^ a
associations would soften hw grief "^^^ °^ ""^"^ "^d
Ita^y Khn';;t::;ST£«°1f *» ^^-^-land and
hackneyed as it now is To so tn^.^"'" ^^^ ^^ »<>' «o
M.8S Evans there must have b^en^an tTl^ "^ "^'^'^ as
first sight of the Continent B^t the ,n*' T'''' '° '^s
dispel her grief, and she continnpH -^ T ^'^ °°t ^^e™ to
that Mrs. Bray almost regretted havL'J,' 'V '"^ »P*"ta
soon after her bereavemfnt. Her tl"^„f ''r ^«' »b«>ad so
passes which they had to cross w^fK'*""' *' '^« si-idy
either hand -so that it seemrd m S a^'f '^'T ^"""'°« °°
" as If a f ise step must send
t^mm^sm.
XliT
QBOROE ELIOT.
them rolling into the abyu — waa bo overpowering that the
aubhme spectacle of the snow-clad Alps seemed comparatively
to produce bnt little impression on her. Her moral triumph
over this constitutional timidity, when any special occasion
arose, was all the more remarkable. One day when crossing
the Col de Balme from Martigny to Chamounix, one of the
side-saddles was found to be badly fitted, and would keep
turning round, to the risk of the rider, if not very careful,
slipping off at any moment. Marian, however, insisted on
having this defective saddle in spite of the protest of Mrs.
Bray, who felt quite guilty whenver they came to any
perilous places.
How different is this timidity from George Sand's hardy
spirit of enterprise ! No one who has read that captivating
l('i>k, her Lfttres (fun Voyageur, can forget the great French-
T.t uan's description of a Swiss expedition, during which,
while encumbered with two young children, she seems to
have borne all the perils, fatigues, and privations of a toil-
some ascent with the hardihood of a mountaineer. But it
sLonld not be forgotten that Miss Evans was just then in a
peculiarly nervous and excitable condition, and her frequent
fits of weeping were a source of pain to her anxious fellow-
travellers. She had, in fact, been so assiduous iu attendance
on her sick father, that she was physically broken down for
a time. Under these circumstances an immediate return to
England seemed unadvisable, and, when her friends started
on their homeward journey, it was decided that Marian should
remain behind at (Geneva.
Here, amid scenes so intimately associated with genius —
where the " self-torturing sophist, wild Bousseau," placed
the home of his ' NomMe Hilaise,' and the octogenarian Vol-
taire spent the serene Indian summer of his stirring career •
where Gibbon wrote his ' History of the Decline and Fall of
the Boman Empire ; ' where Byrou and Shelley sought ref-
uge from the hatred of their countrymen, and which Madame
de StaSl complainingly exchanged for her beloved Eue du
Bao — here the future author of 'Eomola' and 'Middle-
march ' gradually recovered under the sublime influences of
Nature's healing beauties.
TRAN8LATI0V OP 8TKAUSS. ETC.
For about eight months Miss Ewn. i- j
house. "Le Plongeau," uearOenevf R .''l"^ •* • '»*«»ing.
? quieter retreat iu the family '? an aijl !?'^T" «''^ '<"i°d
>ng much attached to him i^d h^° t? "' ^l' ° '^"*''' '»«'«»-
Of the lofty upper Btorie^ o7 tht pT Lff""'^'"^ '" °°''
Wue shimmering waters of th" Ike X ^T"' "'^^ "-e
the awful heights of Mont RiL S'^no'ng far below, and
enti«, !and.cak.he^ot :Ly Wed'ton:'^ "r^""""* '»>«
but, ,n isolation from mankind to „i!^ '^?''*'""*' '"" "'"^iea,
their welfare. Durine thi- stf;^.,'^ f ^i""""' ««''«»«» for
whose works, .sSllzTc^^; drank deep of Eouaseau
"npression on her. And when toT"*' '^f' *" ""»«"««
French, she remarked thattwa^ worth T '"""* *" ""''y
guage if only to read him M tT« . '""""« '''»' l^"-
Probably became familiar^^k wUh th. ^^^ -^"''"^
Utopias of St. Simon, Proudhon «n/ .1 ""'«'"^'"">i social
Having undergone a kiiS of !„?? "'^^ *'"""'' 'Writers.
«o long ago, she must have fTt "^°'""°° •■"««« "ot
grilling hopes of li^rty which h^' !'/'"^'^y ^^'h the
Western Europe in 1^9 Bni- ^"^rT^^^ "^^ »'»'«» of
out, her nature haS conservative T '"'"' "''^'^^^ Pointed
progress only as trr^XflvoluZT; ^''^ »»''«ved in
la one of her most inni.ijl ®^°'""°°' "ot revolution. And
History of German iife'sJS' '"•'"''' 'T'"^ ^»«°n=^
feUare of revolutioniixy attltot Ir^**. ""' *''«"»otab^
of view of abstract demc^ratrdL •?^. ^'°'" **" P<>i°t
the same article she drTws 1 ,tl- °"'*^""''' 'heories." In
growth of language anrZt'f,"!-'T"*' •^*'^««» the
tending that 1^X1^^^ uln'-f ^^"^ institutions, con!
universal language on a raUon.^ L • '^'"'^ '^ """-^'^ct a
uncertainty, no wUms of id om „^" I" ""'^ """ '""^ ""°
shimmer of many-hued ^^^^'n^ eumbrons forms, no fitful
'familiarwithfoKf yeT- L'-r ^"^'^ ""'■^i^""'
of government which ^rn^Ln"?" *''™P"y *» »'*«' forms
historical growth, sylratiCu;?;^S'bv"' ": '"'^' "^
Besides the fascimUnn., „, 7 """ooo'ea by society.
nature, the chIZ of s"" ,1 iS '"'' *^* °"*"'''^ ^lory of
this life at Geneva. In M ST ^'^ "°* '^'"'""K *°
gentle, refined, and of unns.jal ,r Irfl' f , "^"^ '"P*"""^ "a"-
unn.,,al mental attainments, she found
Jisfe
ilvi
OlORQE EUOT.
a highly desinble daily companion. H« waa an artiat by
profauioD, and it it whispered that he luggeited tome of
the traita in the character of the delioate-minded Philip
Wakem in the 'Mill on the Floss.' The only portrait in
oils which exists of George Eliot is one painted by M.
D* Albert at this interesting time of her life. She inspired
him, like most people who came into personal contact with
her, with the utmost admiration and regard, and, wishing to
be of some service, he escorted Miss Evans to England on her
return thither. Curiously enough, M. D' Albert subsequently
translated one of her works, probably ' Adam Bede,' without
in the least suspecting who its real author was.
It is always a shook when vital changes have occurred in
one's individual lot to return to a well-known place, after
an absence <.f some duratioo, to find it wearing the same
unchangeable aspect. One expects somehow that fields and
streets and houses would show some alteration corresponding
to that within ourselves. But already from a distance the
twin spires of Coventry, familiar as household words to the
Warwickshire girl, greeted the eyes of the returning traveller.
In spite of all love for her native spot of earth, this was a
be&vy time to Marian Evans. Her father was dead, the
home where she had dwelt as mistress for so many yean
broken up, the present appearing blank -nd comfortless,
the future uncertain and vaguely terrifying. Jho question
now was where she shuuld live, what she should do, to what
purposes turn the genius whoso untried and partially unsus-
pected powers were darkly agitating her whole being.
As has been already said, Marian Evans had a highly
complex nature, compounded of many contradictory impulses,
which, though gradually brought into harmony as life matured,
were always pulling her, in those days, in different directions.
Thus, though shn possessed strong family affections, she
could not help feeling that to go and take up her abode in
the house of some relative, where lifn resolved itself into a
monotonou<< recurrence of petty considerations, something
after the Qlegg pattern, would be little short of crucifixion
to her, and, however deep her attachment for her native
Boil may have been, she yet sighed passionp^tely to break
TRANSLATION O* STHAUSiJ, ETC.
xlvii
together had .ow diverj^ ^^Sv 2^*^ '° "" ^«''^'
a mutual paatoould bridle o»Tr fh./ ^l °° memorie, of
Under thLe ciroun.Zrtt^tmt^Tt'Rleh'^r ''*".•
her to make their home n«r3,. S v "°"'»U presaed
year, from 1850 t^ mi .^e CmlV*"' '^^ ^^ "»"' "
hold in fullest .ymS/with her Hl"t?'^«°' '''"""'''^
•ided mental aotivitv Z7™ • i I •^*" ^'- ^'»y » "any-
and hiawife'sTSte"!!"'^ J'lf*"""" "* disposition,
to soothe and cW nn.*^ ^ ?•' ''*'"^ ""»' '"a"* helped
just then nea^,;t„rgu„de"Ahe*':r "'""'? '"'"'" ^"
and feeling she had Inn. ?h u "^^''^^ "^in of thought
80 struck by the ^r^S"*^""- ^"' I«"°°' '"""^d, was
eonsu'nVcomin; aXfng^^o Sttf:^'''^^ TT -"
t^ees, ^^r:z^':^:iZt:;^rr -''^ -'^"^ s
lating countov with tJfif/^^ v°^ ""^'y '"'°^«d, undu-
overhVan^^r^i S J^wVL^r '"^^^
^.^aCt ^^^mr^thtr-t V- ^'o^^^^^^^^^^^
George clb^drot'sedwitn^\''^r'l'^'''" ''-'°''" «•«'«•
nolo^ at that S otrmn, .fits'tV ''r'P.'^^ "^P^^""
Balph Waldo Emerson ^^^1 '*^ *''°"»a'"ls of disciples."
while on a brief vis t ' =^„'*«'='""°8 *°" ^^ '^is country,
observed by Mrs C^ en^l^""" ' '^l"*'"*"'""'. and wi
denly she saw hTm^ f T^l? '" '^" '*»' ^i'l" her. Sud-
gentfe-maLrdShadendenZ''"^ T' ''^ ''''' l^"*'
prise. Afterwards in .!^ ^"'^^''''y S^"" him a shock of sur-
i-aia IS no doubt an instance of the
xlviii
OEOROE ELIOT.
, intense sympathetic adaptiveness of Miss Evans. If great
I she was not by any means calm at this period, but inwardly
I U deeply perturbed, yet her nature, with subtlest response, re.
fleeted the transcendental calm of the philosopher whan
brought within his atmosphere.
George Dawson, the popular lecturer, and Mr. Flower were
more Ultimately associated with the Bosehill household The
latter, then living at Strattord^on-Avoc, where he was wont to
entertain a vast number of people, especially Americans, who
made pilgnmages to Shakespeare's birthplace, is known to the
world as the benevolent denouncer of " bits and bearing-reins "
One day this whole party went to hear George Dawson, who
had made a great sensation at Birmingham, preach one of his
thrilling sermons from the text "And the common people
heard him gladly." George Eliot, aUuding to these days as
late as 1876, says, in a letter to Mrs. Bray :
"George Dawson was strongly associated for me with Eose-
hiU, not to speak of the General BaptUt Chapel, where we all
heard him preach for the first time (to us). ... I have a vivid
recollection of au evening when Mr. and Mrs. P dined at
your house with George Dawson, when he was going to lec-
ture at the Mechanics' Institute, and you felt compassionately
towards him, because you thought the rather riotous talk wm
a bad preface to his lecture. We have a Birmingham friend
whose acquaintance we made many years ago in Weimar, and
from him I have occasionally had some news of Mr. Dawson
I feared, what you mention, that his life has been a little too
strenuous in these latter years."
On the evening alluded to in this letter Mr. Dawson was
dining at Mrs. Bray's iouse before giving his lecture on 'John
Wesley, at the Mechanics' Institute. His rich sarcasm and
love of fun had exhilarated the whole company, and not
content with merely « riotous talk," George Dawson and Mr
Flower turned themselves into lions and wild cats for the
amusement of the children, suddenly pouncing out from under
the table-cloth, with hideous roarings and screeohings, till the
hubbub became appalling, joined to the delighted half-fright-
ened exclamations of the little ones. Mr. Dawson did the
lions, and Mr. Flower, who had made personal acquaintance
THE 'WESTMINSTER REVIEW.'
xlix
with the wild oats in the baokwoorfo ^r *
'^Thu^a^T n^""' Poutrarscllr"'"'" ^"^""^'■
mented, frequenUy in tea™ n^ *"' '^^ "'"ess, tor-
wider sphe.^, -/-re^'dTfi^&eV^rr"''? "^"°« ^
ever strenuonsly she, at a matm^r Z!Tir'''T ?"''-
necessity of resignation, she hS noHhl 1 ' "•"!'^«»'«'i 'he
herself. And now a change wasim ° ndte^ '*T *° "^'6"
fraught with the most im wrte^t .^ * ~ * "^^"S* '^^''='>'
to give a new direction t^^h^ "o^sequences, was destined
Chapman invited fertoJsisttl'"' 1^*'.'"" ^'- J"""
»re..^,W«riJe«Ve»rwhicri^°tth^^t'''*''°''''''P °* '^«
from John Mill. They had^l™lf *""^ "•*" •"" '"^ods
passing through London onherwa^l,r'r't° *'"""' ""^
matter of business or otheTcoSd whh ?'??'■ °° ^°°'«
tions. Dr. Chapman's prooosUion wl T. °* *■" ^^^^^
Marian suffered keenlvf^dl ^"^^'^'^ ^ ^'"i although
friends, the p'lpTnJ toTort%7r' °' """"« -'"^ "-
overcame the dining of affectron"^' ^J^'' *° ^J^^ f""
«he left ««.ehill l^hi^ndLf S^X^t^nlr "« °' ''''
CHAPTEB V.
THE 'WESTJUINSTEB BEVIEW '
adX^^L^arjarTers'c^Sy'^- \'^« ^ahit of
found herself at once^^:he cenle L'' • 'l""- '''"'^ "'"'
some of the most advan/.7fh?l \ """^^ consisting of
of tteday; a cirdfwWch Si;r°^'"'"""* ^'«-«^^^^^
to the We^tn^inster Seven,' Tfl^^T-^'V^ contributors
tific tendencies, being paTticXll !^""''""^ '''* »««"-
Positive PhUosiphy P"*"^"'"'^ ?»'"»! to the doctrines of
rf P« .-*r, ij. H. Lewes, John Oxenford,
1
GEORGE ELIOT.
i
James and Harriet Martineau, Charles Bray, George Combe,
and Professor Edward Forbes were among the writers that -
made it the leadiug expositor of the philosophic and scien-
tific thought of the age. It occupied a position something
midway between that of the Nineteenth Century and the
Fortnightly. Scorning, like the latter, to pander to the
frivolous tastes of the majority, it appealed to the most
thoughtful and enlightened section of the reading public,
giving especial prominence to the philosophy of the Comtist
School; and while not so fashionable as the Nineteenth
Century, it could boast among its contributors names quite
as famous, destined as they were to become the foremost of
their time and country. With this group of illustrious writers
Miss Evans was now associated, and the articles she con-
tributed from the year 1862 to 1858 are among the most
brilliant examples of periodical literature. The first notice
by her pen is a brief review of Carlyle's ' Life of Sterling '
for January 1852, and judging from internal evidence, as
regards style and method of treatment, the one on Margaret
Fuller, in the next number, must be by the same hand.
To the biographer there is a curious interest in what she
says in her first notice about this kind of literature, and it
would be well for the world if writers were to lay it more
generally to heart. " We have often wished that genius
would incline itself more frequently to the task of the biog-
rapher, that when some great or good personage dies, instead
of the dreary three- or five-volumed compilations of letter,
and diary, and detail, little to the purpose, which two-thirds
of the pubLo have not the chance, nor the other third the
inclination, to read, we could have a real ' life,' setting forth
briefly and vividly the man's inward and outward struggles,
aims, and achievements, so as to make clear the meaning
which his experience has for his fellows. A few such lives
(chiefly autobiographies) the world possesses, and they have,
perhaps, been more influential on the formation of character
than any other kind of reading." Then again, speaking of
the ' Memoirs of Margaret Fuller,' she remarks, in reference
to the same topic, « The old-world biographies present their
subjects pnerally as broken fragments of humanity, notice-
:ti--:
THE 'WESTMINSTER REVIEW U
for readers not to ^"gKhCeTLf '"' "° '"*«"='
pungent words: "We are !t . i J" «''° apposite and
as the parent or chUd^ vl^ loss whether to regard her
Perhaps'neither thfone nor the „^°f^"'l/-''««-<ientalisn..
intellectual, moral, spirit^[ re/eneraln ""^ ««^«."«a"y an
whole man _ a kindlin7?f ^*f °«'ation - a renewing of the
ment nf fo ^T i * °^ ^ aspirations after full develoD-
ment of faculty and perfect svmmetry of bein^ nf tv
sect Margaret Fuller was th^ ,:., ^ ^ ^ ^' "* *"''
S of ill 1^^°"^'"' «^^« «aw into the hearts and over the
wholehumS^e! HerCtvtr •* ^"" ^''^''"^ '^'>
^ther to herseHoi ^TiSl ITZll'^Zrr'
the time she became a mother till he final 741^^1 ^k T
I^nshedwith her husband and child wif^^sSfoKratS
shore, she was an altered woman, and evinced a greatnes I?
soul and heroism of character so grand and subdufng, hat we
feel disposed to extend to her whole career the admrrrtiln
f T^°,P***y ""^P'""^ ^y *''« «'o«i°8 scenes. "™"*"''°
While her reputation was at its height in the literarv
S her" iftf ° 7'. ''Z'' ^°'^' '""^ ^^ - B^flnS
tnat her life seemed to be a studied act, rather than a stMrT
taneous growtii , but this was the mere flitter on hrsurW
In this striking summing-up of a character, the penetrating
£n fe '""? -ture -taking in at a glance 'and depLf
ing by a few masterly touches all that helps to make ud a
picture of the real living being-begins to'reveaT Wlf
oJtr r" •" *?' ^'^t^i^ter S^ieu, are not only
capital reading m themselves, but are, of course, doub y
Ui
OEOROK EIJOT.
f'
m
attractive to us because they let out opinions, views, judg-
ments of things and authors, which we should never other-
wise have known. Marian Evans had not yet hidden herself
behind the mask of George Eliot, and in many of these wise
and witty utterances of hers we are admitted behind the
scenes of her mind, so to speak, and see her in her own
undisguised person — before she had assumed the role of the
novelist, showing herself to the world mainly through her
dramatic impersonations.
In these articles, written in the fresh maturity of her
powers, we learn what George Eliot thought about many
subjects. We learn who were her favorite authors in fiction ;
what opinions she held on art and poetry; what was her atti-
tude towards the political and social questions of the day;
what was her conception of human life in general. There is
much here, no doubt, that one might have been prepared to
find, but a good deal, too, that comes upon one with the fresh-
ness of surprise.
A special interest attaches natarally to what she has to say
about her own branch of art — the novel. Though she had
probably no idea that she was herself destined to become one
of the great masters of fiction, she had evidently a special
predilection for works of that kind, noticeable because hith-
erto her bent might have appeared almost exclusively towards
philosophy. To the thrtfe-volume ciroulating-Ubrary novel
of the ordinary stamp she is merciless in her sarcasm. One
of her most pithy articles of this time, or rather later, its
date being 1856, is directed against "SiUy Novels by Lady
Novelists." "These," she says, "consist of the frothy, the
prosy, the pious, or the pedantic. But it is a mixture of all
these — a composite order of feminine fatuity — that produces
the largest class of such novels, which we shall distinguish as
the mind and mUlinery species. We had imagined that desti-
tute women turned novelists, as they turned governesses,
because they had no other 'ladylike' means of getting their
bread. Empty writing was excused by an empty stomach,
and twaddle was consecrated by tears. ... It is clear that
they write in elegant boudoirs, with violet-colored ink and
a ruby pen; that they must be entirely indifferent to pub-
fll .
THE 'WESTMINSTEK BEVIEW.'
,. , liii
^Vt^^i ,^T^^-'-' ^ -ry for. of ^veny
meat for Low Church younriLi .^'v °^ "'^'^'"al sweet-
drama of Evangelioa^smTnd it tL V '5' '^'^'' "^^e real
for any one who has ^i^enlu^^h"^""^ °^ «»« drama
it, Ues among the mid^e Td lower .1 """"^ '^d "Produce
have pictures of reli«^L^l „ !?'*'• ^^^ "an we not
England, as interSgT M^s Tto^L^ '"f ^"^ "'^^'^ «
life among the negroes?" ^' P"='""« °f religious
•Scenes of der^, S'^d^t '°«"i'^ ^°'''«'J °"^ *"
knowledge of English LTrJ life and tt\ ^" '"""""«
her imagination, every now anTV)f * ^°^^ " '■^^ on
surface of her w^itingsfanZt^-^'f?" '"'' ''^ '^"^ t" t^e
"g matter with a ofrkin unSkable TJ^'/'^ ="'"'"°''-
censunngthe lack of reality w^hwWh ' ^°"^- ^**«'
monly treated in art, she^ Ss !« fr°' '"« *« «"■»-
remarks, suggested by her own ^riln i^'"* *??«"*«
peasants are joyous that tZ ^^f* = "The notion that
a man in a sS? oct is whe?r^ir''T' *° '«?-«-*
showingarowof soundteethThaf „ V "*"''"'8 * J°'^« and
buxom, and village Children ntl'f*' '"'"'°''« "« """ally
prejudices difflcuU to d£ "*°Cm"^ ^i^ ^"d -erry. are
looks for its subjects into ll»f -^ *'*''"' '°»'i ^hioh
painter is still under thr!^fl*T ''"'^'^ °^ Hfe- The
has always expressed h! •""'* "^ '"^y'"" literature, which
than theUhTrttt w""^-::^" t, ^^'o-W riS
when they drive their team afiefd idlr'^T^''/'^ j'^™'*
bashful love under hawZ™ T V ' .^,""' sl^^pherds make
in the chequered shIrlirreStLm'"," ""'^^^ ''--
ately with spicy nut-brown rieB.f'" °°' immoder-
much of actual ploughmen think, ^K "° °°^ ^^^ ^^ «««"
is well acquainted X the Enrii.h ^'""""'' °° °"« ^^o
them meny. Ihe slow gLe In t^T"''^ '^^° J''"""""'*
Blow gaze, in which no sense of beauty
Ut
OEORQE ELIOT.
'!r
beams, no humor twinkles; the slow utterance, and the heavy
slouching walk, remind one rather of that melancholy animal
the camel, than of the sturdy countryman, with striped stock-
ings, red waistcoat, and hat aside, who represents the tradi-
tional English peasant Observe a company of haymakers
When you see them at a distance tossing up the forkfuls of
hay in the golden light, while the wagon creeps slowly with
Its increasing burden over the meadow, and the bright green
space which tells of work done gets larger and larger, you
pronounce the scene 'smUing,' and you think these oom^-
ions in labor must be as bright and cheerful as the picture to
which they give animation. Approach nearer and you will
find haymaking time is a time for joking, especially if there
are women among the laborers; but the coarse laugh that
bursts out every now and then, and expresses the triumphant
taunt, is as far as possible from your conception of idyllic
merriment. That delicious efEervescence of the mind which
we call fun has no equivalent for the northern peasant, except
tipsy revelry; the only realm of fancy and imagination for
the English clown exists at the bottom of the third quart
pot.
"The conventional countryman of the stage, who picks up
pocket-books and never looks into them, and who is too
simple even to know that honesty has its opposite, represents
the still lingering mistake, that an unintelligible dialect is
a guarantee for ingenuousness, and that slouching shoulders
indicate au upright disposition. It is quite sure that a
thresher is likely to be innocent cf any adroit arithmetical
cheating, but he is not the less likely to carry home his
master's com in his shoes and pocket; a reaper is not given
to writing begging letters, but he is quite capable of cajoling
the daiiy-maid into filling his small beer bottle with ale. The
selfish instincts are not subdued by the sight of buttercups
nor IS integrity in the least established by that classic rural
occupation, sheep-washing. To make men moral something
more is requisite than to turn them out to grass."
Every one must see that this is the essay-writing of a nov-
elist rather than of a moral philosopher. The touches are put
on with the vigor of a Velasquez. Balzac, or Flaubert or
Ir^
THE 'WESTMINSTER REVIEW.'
peasant life with more dowti^L .^'C """' '^«'«'"b«d
of Miss Evans this qu^Uy o'^StvlrthJ- 'f '^^ ^y^"
all for the artist. Because «a Iw ^ / v^" °'°** °««<iful of
a great artist can ZTZrJJ^l" °1 ''"°*" '"«' "^"h as
fish into that atteS; to wC '° ^^^ '""^^ «"d the sei-
which n.ay be oaUefthe raw "iLTof '^ • "■^'"»«'-'-
" art is the nearest thing tThfe t u l f "'"ne"'-" Pop
experience and extending our n^f ! * °""*^ °^ amplifying
beyond the bounds of"? ;:;o"^''to1 "^n T '^"°'-»^''"
IS the task of the artist when T „„i V i"^" '^« ""^^ sacred
of the People. Falsificlon We TfT^T '""' ^''^ "^^
m the more artiHcial aspects of fife ^*' """^ P^^^'ons than
that we should have false iH«„„J!; . " "°* '° ^"^ serious
about themanners and conveltbH ;L""''''''°* ''«'''°-«-
butit ,> serious thatour ;mX:,h thr""'""''^"*^'
fi^srth?::i^";^if;*r^^^^^
purpose was altogethera JLin t\T T""""" °^ " ""oral
discussed in correction wTtJe « f"*- ""^^ '^ "«« ^'Ij
fiction. It isonlyneedfuTf^ . ''^^''"' °* ^" works of
binding she wished to mak^ 47. ?"' f' ^°^«'°»« '^^^
•esthetics. "* *** "»'°° between ethics and
^^'^::^^^alf:!':^r^:z' '""^'"*^' •- °^ ^rt
manner in an article cSrI, "^r"""' '^^ ^'"^^'^
Kotion.' This article howevfrin"tbvr''= «T°* ^^^^^
George Heniy Lewes, ft Z; tubll^^f °'^™°*' ''"* •'y
and appeared after the rioinlsoionrn-n'° °°'°^'' ^858.
spring and summer of thiryVar Tthinfr r/""°» '^«
fnly compares 'Realism in Art' with r ^f °°" ""«-
articles, there appears somethin.. Tit "'^ ^'^"''^ °"^«r
respective styles irthispZrJfj * T'^^e of their
with his flexible adapfvenesT h^l '^'°^^^^' '^^' Lewes,
Of George .lio.s Aeri^^ra^dt^t^ SL^of X
^-^-^
M
OEOBOE EUOT.
views he ezpresses here at the same time render Qeorge
Eliot's, as thej frequently appear, identical with hers. In
the article in question the manner as well as the matter has
a certain suggestion of the novelist's style. For example, she
frequently indicates the quality of human speech by its
resemblance to musical sounds. She is fond of speaking of
"the staccato tones of a voice," "an adagio of utter indiffer-
ence," and in the above-mentioned essay there are such ex-
pressions as the "stately largo" of good German prose.
Again, in the article in question, we find the following satiri-
cal remarks about the slovenly prose of the generality of
German writers: "To be gentlemen of somewhat slow, slug-
gish minds is perhaps their misfortune; but to be writers
deplorably deficient in the first principles of composition is
assuredly their fault. Some men pasture on platitudes, as
oxen upon meadow-grass ; they are at home on a dead-level of
common-place, and do not desire to be irradiated by a felicity
of expression." And in another passage to the same effect the
author says sarcastically, " Graces are gifts : it can no more
be required of a professor that he should write with felicity
than that he should charm all beholders with his personal
appearance ; but literature requires that he should write in-
telligibly and carefully, as society requires that he should
wash his face and button his waistcoat." Some of these
strictures are very similar in spirit to what George Eliot had
said in her review of Heinrioh Heine, published in 1866,
where, complaining of the general oumbrousness of German
writers, she makes the following cutting remark: "A German
comedy is like a German sentence: you see no reason in its
strucfcore why it should ever come to an end, and you accept
the conclusion as an arrangement of Providence rather than of
the author."
A passage in this article, which exactly tallies with George
Eliot's general remarks on Art, must not be omitted here.
"Art is a representation of Eeality — a Representation, inas-
much as it is not the thing itself, but only represents it,
must necessarily be limited by the nature of its medium. . , .
Realism is thus the basis of all Art, and its antithesis is not
Idealism but Falsism. ... To misrepresent the forms of
THE -WESTMINSTER REVIEW.'
Ivii
<»»t, would not be morf ?rufy fh^kL t "^""^ '° "^ ^*«''-
than are those senseless falsficlS of Nat """"" T^
woompetence is led under the preteCnfLif. ""** ''^'"^
Either give us true peasants oM^aTe tW ". ^^^ ' ^^»'"™-
paint no drapery at Vu, or paint it withTh^"'"'^ ' ""''"
either keep your people sUe^o,, T'*'' '''« "'most fidelity;
of their clasf." ^^ '' "' """^^ ^^'^ speak the idiom
PatlTe^serorortK:^;t ^' ^'"^r °^ ''■°'* »'"-).
praise in'thisrevie^ And LI. •' ""?"^ ""' ^°' ^P*'''^
a tale by this e^lnentlufh rS" fj.f ''l^-^ouM be
(which also appeared in IHT^^ iT I- u *^ ^"^^y Ones'
forcibly recalli,rthe catastrophe J r*" ^° *"'='''''"* """"^
'Daniel Deronda': the Tn3 ^Hh ".""^""""'^ "««"> '»
duoed-of a Neapolitan fi8he™a"^wh"^ unskilfully intro-
ous hesitation to rescue his d^wnin^/' ""r'"'"^ ■°"<'"-
remorse for his death "'""•'""g fnend ends in lifelong
are'IL'lri't^Ker^:""" T^'"'^ -'-"t-g
biographical interes S h« ^en ''""^ ^'* '' «" ''l""'^'
Lewes and George Eliot were t^!",,""'".'""^'* »''•«»<»?. Mr.
spring of 1858, and in a lette? tlf^ "i ^™*°y *" the
we hada delioiouVy„™tVVir^'^\''"'««= "Then
through the Salz-KpCer/ut ,n v *^' ^'"^ ^^^ ""enoe
Prague, and from Pr^eTV",!"""^ ^"'" ^'«""» to
last six weeks in a uTl t 7 ' '"''""« "^ «P^nt our
^donna." And irhi^'j^rX^G hT' "' ^'^ ^^
the most priceless art-tre^u™ n!.!^» . ^"'*' *"""^«« *»
marvellous picture, thelSn^ a 0°"*^""' "Raphael's
the most perfect ll„lof-^ ^' ^"^ Sisto." as furnishinR
andldealis'r Sp iSroHh: vu^^ '"^^"^ "^^ ««^i«-
never-to.be.forgotC divine baL'^ f ««"'■''« «»y«= "^» 'he
est realism of presentaZ^.>^.^ v''^'^* ** """^ 'he intens-
oeption: theattSisl" nil^ the highest idealism of con-
face is that of a child bu IhTl'^J'^' '^^' *"'' "^'-^^^ ' 'he
and in that brow ther" s t iS'i'fi"\',"'"^ ^ '" 'h^'e "7^^
.-ter than the expression '^.I^L'XIZTZI tStf
iTiii
OBOROK ELIOT.
pope or saint, is to all who see it a perfect tnah ; we feel that
humanity in its highest oonoeirable form is before us, and that
to transcend suoh a form would be to lose sight of the human
nature there represented." A similar passage -occurs in 'The
Mill on the Floss,' where Philip Wakem says: "The greatest
of painters only once painted a mysteriously divine child ; he
could n't have told how he did it, and we can't tell why we
feel it to be divine."
Enough has probably been quoted from George Eliot's
articles to give the reader some idea of her views on art.
But they are so rich in happy aphorisms, originality of illus-
tration, and racindss of epithet that they not only deserve
attentive study because they were the first fruits of the mind
that afterwards gave to the world such noble and perfect works
as ' The Mill on the Floss ' and ' Silas Mamer,' but are well
worth attention for their own sake. Indeed, nothing in George
Eliot's fictions excels the style of these papers. And what a
clear, incisive, masterly style it was I Her prose in those days
had a swiftness of movement, an epigrammatic felicity, and a
brilliancy of antithesis which we look for in vain in the over-
elaborate sentences and somewhat ponderous wit of 'Theo-
phrastus Such.'
A very vapid paper on • Weimar and its Celebrities,' April
1859, which a writer in the Academy attributes to the same
hand, I know not on what authority, does not possess a single
attribute that we are in the habit of associating with the writ-
ings of George Eliot. That an author who, by that time, had
already produced some of her very finest work, namely, the
' Scenes of Clerical Life* and ' Adam Bede,' should have been
responsible simultaneously for the trite common-places venti-
lated in this article is simply incredible. It is true that
Homer is sometimes found nodding, and the right-hand of the
greatest master may forget its cunning, but would George
Eliot in her most abject moments have been capable of pen-
ning such a sentence as this in connection with Goethe?
" Would not Fredricka of Lili have been a more genial com-
panion than Christina Vulpius for that great poet of whom
his native land is so justly proud ? " It is not worth while to
point out other platitudes such as flow spontaneously from the
THB ■ WESTMINSTER REVIEW.'
lix
•aUy '^for«L.w5.':fzt't'^Xo^ ,!" ?"' ?8. Thus wr,ead
wotmg proofs. But m ;> »..„ '""" o"' oi tne wayof cor-
this wortu'ess prLluoS^sSd^tr"'' ""'~"""'' ''«"
other on 'Worldline.. »n^ n*K V.r , ° ^*^' "''I ">«
»«»». Ihese articles are curious beoftusn f h«^ ...» * «'<'"ati-
time. Two extrfcts Trom if "t^"'"'"'* °^ '^'' transitional
a.p^testif;rrh':ttV3t^i7;r'°"'^ '''*^"'- ^^^^
Is
UKOKOE ELIOT.
unotuou* agoUm at Ood-givea piety? Let luoh a nun be.
oome ttii evangeliottl preacher; he will then find it pouible to
rooonoilo small ability with ^reat ambition, superficial knowl-
edge with the prsHtigt of erudition, a middling morale with
a high r«pultttioii for sanctity. Ut hiu shun practical ex-
tremes, and be ultra only in what is purely theoretic. L«t
him be stringent on predestination, but latitudinarian on fast-
ing; unttmclimgin insibtmg on the eternity of punishment,
bu diihdent of curtailing the substantial comforts of time
ardeut ar,d imaginativo on the pre-millennial advent of Christ
but cold and cautious towards every other infringement of the
ttatu* quo. Let him fish for souls, not with the bait of in-
convenient singularity, but with the drag-net of comfortable
conformity. Let him be hard and literal in his interpretation
only when he wants to hurl texts at the heads of unbelievers
and adversaries, but when the letter of the Scriptures presses
too closely on the genteel Christianity of the nineteenth cen-
tury, let him use hia spiritualizing alembic and disperse it into
impalpable ether. Let him preach less of Christ than of
Antichrist j let him be less deBnite in showing what sin is
than in showing who U the Man of Sin ; less expansive on the
blessedueas of faith than on the aocursedness of infidelity.
Above all, let him set up as an interpreter of prophecy, rival
' Moore's Almanack ' in the prediction of political events, tick-
ling the interest of hearers who are but moderately spiritual
by showijg how the Holy Spirit has dictated proHems and
charades for their benefit ; and how, if thoy are ingenious enough
to solve these, thoy may have their Christian graces nourished
by learning precisely to whom they may point as ' the horn that
had eyes,' 'the lying prophet,' and the 'unclean spirits.' In
this way he will draw men to him by the strong cords of th-ir
passiona, made reason-proof by being baptized with the name
of piety. In this way he may gain a metropolitan pulpit ; the
-vc. ues to his church will be as crowded as the passages to the
opera ; he has but to print his prophetic sermons, and bind them
in lilac and gold, and they wiU adorn the drawing-room table
of all evangelical ladies, who will regard as a sort of pious
'light reading' the demonstration that the prophecy of the
locusts, whose bting is in their taU, is fulfilled in the fact of the
THK 'WE8TMIN.ST1 UKVIEW.- ,„
l^ Zr KretrrttVeiTo'" '"" "r '^' '^^'-
Revelations." ^ ""ff" P'oJicted in the
Even more soathinir than this nnahm^ki
the popular evangelical preaiheTr?h "'' '''"^'' ''»« °'
Voung, one of thrwittie«r^7 ' i " ^^' "^ "'« !»«'
wherein .he castignZ-, w th tn "h """ """"^ ^"°'''' P»".
ridicule that Xs of b. i 'te ' tl' ^'"'" "^ "arcasm and
.ufflciently in crfer o make .ur! „°f T""" '""'^ ""» "^o
the care of their own so'f ^ cLll IfT ""j.r""' '=
Her analysis of the 'Night ThorhJ" """'''" »*•"'•
most brilliant eriticS^ws of ts ttnf V "'°""" °"' °' "»•
this earth, of all of us and h?. ..Lu V- TK^ contempt for
*hov<,, especially proT^ke ht «^ ?" "' "" """"y "'"•'•»
of mind was always t„uk!vI"'Tf"' """^- ^his frame
never sufficiently ZitTnZl lalVlJ'''''' "'° '"'"'■»
his love and energy on the Iif« .,!. i^N,; *" * fO'-oentrating
»uch toleration for that form of r^'lr.-^"'";. ^'"' °«^" ^«>'
some shadowy infinite bevon^ ti "*P"f' °° ^at would soar to
One of the most epIgramS !«' ' '".'?""'*" ^"""'""'iP-
she says of Youn/ "Cm«! P^'T"'" ""» article is where
liahed Church §e Irson^^ ^ '^^^ ^'*^^ ^°' "" EstaL
of temporalities ^d fp UuSes°"°Hf '^ "",!'*'"' '»'-<'«
with the momentousness of deah ;,„.', " "^T^'y '""P^cwed
guishes at once for immortal We a'dfo, o" ^"'f l^" '""■
fervid attachment to patrons nine J k ?"T' ^^ ^" "
fers the Almighty. Cwill (TJl "^l' ''"* °° *''« '''hole pre-
Official convict'ion-^the nolh ng^"t^7earthr\v« "°'« ''-
wUl feel something more than rl f T^^ ^^"'^' '^^ ^e
rious efforts in di4t,°; men's Son tT'^'i' "^^ ""''°-
not rewarded by suhat^nH^l LIT . *° *"°*" "'orid are
■nan believes in'^aSt^rnSk s^V " ^" "«""'«
istic attire for 'an ornament .,f,!r • ^'°e'"°8' as character-
eourtiers will never foretllofv^"" p^t'"*"^ ' ' ''« '>°P«''
Writes begging letters fo\.. ^s ';;.£tf Walpole; and
man recognizes no motives more femn !f ' ^'* spi"t«ial
'the skies;' it walks in !L^ familiar than Golgotha and
• • • If it we el OP the3' ^°'f°'" '"""^ "" ''""
aiders it would l« w°'e.rd^'^ ,°* ■^mortality, he con-
'"® "'^'^ agreeable to be indecent^ or to
Izii
GEORGE ELIOT.
P
if f
■:
^Hnn , '' ' *'"'' ^'^^"' ^P*'*' '' ''°"ld be extremely
urational m any man not to be a knave. Man, he thinks is a
bLTh""!"' '^' ^^'l ""'^ "»* '""'« i ""« brut; is to ^W
bled by being reminded of its 'relation to the stars 'Td
frightened into moderation by the contemplation of deathCs
world rnd^H-'Ti'' *" ^ ^'""'"^^ ^y v't«Peniting tMs
It 1 rt '?""■« f\' ""*• ""'^ ^y '^^' double process you
get the Christian - 'the highest style of man.' With all this
our new-made divine is an unmistakable poet. To a clay
TJTf "Y"^^ f ^^' ''°'''*""S ^°<» the rhetorician there
1 f^ v.* ''"^ 'P"'' °^ P'o^etl'ean fire. He wiU one day
rp^r. ^'\*P««"°Pl'«« «"<! objurgations, his astronomical
religion and his charnel-house morality, in lasting verse
which will stand, like a Juggernaut mile of gold andjew-
PHw /v ' '"^fJI'fif'" and repulsive: for this divine is
Edward Young, the future author of the 'Night Thoughts "'
It has seemed appropriate to quote thus largely from these
essays, because, never having been reprinted, they are to all
intents and purposes inaccessible to the general reader Yet
they contain much that should not willingly be consigned to
the dust and cobwebs, among which obsolete magazines usually
sink into oblivion. They may as well be specified here accord-
ing to their dates. 'Carlyle's Life of Sterling,' January 1852 :
Woman m France : Madame de Sabl^,' October 1854 ; ' Evan!
gelical Teaching: Dr. Gumming,' October 1855; 'German
Wit: Heinnch Heine,' January 1S66; 'Silly Novels by Lady
Novelists' October 1856; 'The Natural History of German
Life/ July 1856; and 'Worldliness and Other-Worldliness :
the Poet Young,' January 1857.
Miss Evans's main employment on the Westminster Review
was, however, editorial. She used to write a considerable
portion of the summary of contemporary literature at the end
of each number. But her co-operation as subeditor ceased
about the close of 1853, when she left Dr. Chapman's house,
and went to live in apartments in a small house in Cambridge
Terrace, Hyde Park. Marian Evans was not entirely depend-
ent at this time on the proceeds of her literary work, her
father having settled the sum of 80/. to im. a year on her for
life, the capital of which, however, did not belong to her. She
GEORGE HENRY LEWES.
Ixiii
was very generous with her moneir • and -ilrt., i, >,
at this time were not considerable'tW w ^ learnings
her poor relations. """""^'''e' t^^ey were partly spent on
CHAPTER VI.
GEOBQE HENKY 1EWE8.
Id October 1852, she stayed w™h Mr »^^t?'" ^""^ elsewhere,
at Edinburgh, and on h^r wav btk w» l*^'' ^°'S« ^ombe
Martineau, at her dehghtfX SaZ h ^''' f »""«*
3r acquaintance with MrHerWrw f i" .^""Weside.
a cordial friendship Thev 1^ n ^ T ^^ ''^"'^ '°to
and in the oountT and LTr i„r^"^ ^'^ '" ^"^on
n.utnal mtellectu^'enToyml^ a^d ""^^ ^ " '"""^ °^
have become evident it is errnn? ^f '• *^ """' already
any share in the forma in ^ her Tin^ T^"" l^"' '^ ""^
Spencer said, in a letter to tLn ^, J °' "^ ^'- Herbert
did not commence untU 1851 wtfT' "°"' '"^^''^^'P
tinguished by that breath 'f' cu£ t/"' -^'""^^ ''''-
"r;TeSt-£%reSf^^^^^^^^^^^^
rumor, after alMng in a^',^,n^LT.f"°* *°"'='^^ °° '•"'«
great contemporary -^"LTveTtn^ """"■" *° "^"'h^
tions quite di3_l ^e/e/jiLj , '' °"^ °^ y°" q»^«-
with" (naming a'promin nTpSi:^^'' acquaintance
my knowledge, except in the HoZ of p ^' '^'' ^™ '°
I have studied his books Tr^T v ^""""Ms; and though
Economy,' with muSiefiri W„'''' '''°«'"' *"'' '^°"ti'al
having made any markSScJ Sy^^r^"^^^ "^ ''^^''
tage for'^tWyeSlS 1^'*^*'' '>'"'°' ^"^ ^^-
my mind had been taken before I knlv'"'^ ""*'° ^''^ "^
f his readers, I am, of court ind^bLd Shlm^"' ''l"='
largement and clarifying of thought!" """'^ "'°-
■^^W^^^MI
Iziv
GEORGE ELIOT.
durin^fhrflT '^°*^f «^'l"»i°t«~e which Miss Evans made
during the first year of her residence in the Strand uLT^^
to ^ect the whole future tenor of her life I lie a^ Ju^S
l^^^SX^rL"'"^^' *''-' '*" ^"' * """"
.aSLfw^^n^^dron^-rofl^^ ^/X'
was educated at Greenwich in a school once mssessinf^ hi h
eT'^nhVT "'°"'°«^{ "S-nding-rprphsTf know'l
h« 1/ , i^""',- ,^^*» ^'^ education was so far finishld
he was placed as clerk in a merchant's office. This kind of
ft aCe° 'v"°' -"y.-li^t-teful, hP ..rned me^c^l s uden
losopHy, for at the age of nineteen we ..ad him attendiiK, t),«
weekly meetings of a small club, in the habTt of Ss n^
metaphysical problems in the pn,-]or of a tavern i„ rlTr ^
gua^e Holborn. This elubXm which the irinlS
Deronda' is supposed to have borrowed many of its feature
h7J T'V ^■"'""•°" ^°'*"'°«* heterogLeou company
Here, amicably seated round t!ia fi™ „ ^"uo i-umpany.
would hob andU with some medictl ^tudeTdef '" **""'
omy; a second-hand bookseSerhaS devoured tre'^liter^r*"
on h^ shelves, ventilated their contenfs frtheteneritn^^^
alt^r""''' """""""^ ""y^*'" ^'^ listened tot turn wfth
a Jewish journeyman watchmaker deeply imbued with Lw
zism It is impossible not to connect thfs C na^ed CoC
a.d described as "a man of astonishing subTiUy^„1 foS
o? th« n T ? °^ '""^^ ^''""^^ '^"rt^." with the MoE
of the novel just mentioned. However wide the aftTr div«
cSihe r '^'^r'^ "f *'"' ««-• -^'e weak Tyes I^d
chest, the grave and gentle demeanor, the whole idealitv nf
character, correspond. In some respects G H^we w^
the "Daniel Deronda" to this "MordVcai." For hr^ot onW
loved but venerated his "great calm intellect." " i^ "mm^ni
pity," says Mr. Lewes, "a fervid indignation, filltd me^ ?
cameawayfrom his attics in one of the HolCn courtT whire
I had seen him in the pinching poverty of his home with hi^
German wife and two little black^yed children/" ' '
To this pure-spirited suffering watehmaker, Lewes owed his
■wmMm-mn.m^--
GEORGE HENRY LEWES. j^^
first acquaintance with Snino^a a . •
cted by Cohen, awakenedT'ea^t"«^'? f«sa«e, oaaually
youth. The desire to posses hfmLf',' 1°' """^ '- '•>«
still in the odor of pesWental C- ^ '^'' ''°'''''
passion. Forhehimsfff then f»nff ^' ."""'*'* ^'^ "^e a
which embitters any detrtare f™™ "°^ '^' ^""'"^ persecution
defiant sympathy with^foutcSr '^"'P'*^ '"^*'^^'" ^«1* ^^
evenmg, the coveted volumes ^e/e at^ "jl'^f^ November
the dingy shelves of a second land hnntn^'' discovered on
gashght, young Lewes, wTa tlti^t l"" ^^ "■« A^'ng
of a small brown quart^ those thril"^ '''?' "'^ "^ 'J^« back
Posthuma ! ' He was JT,^ tfillmg words, < Spinoza : Ooera
volume was twentrhrn ' k ."t ''^'' """^ "'^ P""" °f th«
ficed his last sixpeLe oTju'e it T^ '"^'^ ^"^^^ ««"i-
w.th feverish delight, he hurried hom„ T? ^^'"^ '"« "'<»>«7
diatelyset to work ;n a traitionnf" A"T^''' ''"'^ '"•">«•
however, he was too impatierSnfsh ''' "=*''"="'' "'■-'>.
•^in^tKr^rdicr onrta^sirr - -^^ -
Phy, butas showine the «^L! • , • * *'""''«'• ^ pbiloso-
The study of SpinZedoTsSr "'"" •" "" """^
and works in the »W/™,-„l I .°8 *" article on his life
-count Of the gre!;Terr pto^p^ ^^^ ^-t '•>« £
this country. This artipl» P""osopher which appeared in
'Biographill ffilry o th£r'? '"""r-''^ -the
believe, of that "admirable nwJ^' 'T^ *•>« """'eus, I
exposition," as Mr. Preder" HarH '^'^*«'' ""''"'» a^d
according to him, has infl L^^tr^f '' 1*' " ^°'^ '^bich,
~ion^.most more thrtf ^Sto^ XT^
■osSSS =rnV4^f;C'f - •«'=*<''^ °^ -"■•■
he study of its language and S;*^ '^*^°'^'' '"™»«'f to
fashion by Carlyle. Ee?urmn„ to ?„.?' f '' ^'""^^^ '»'°
came one of the most nrnlifiT f ngland in 1839, he be-
brilliant. and ma^;: ded he Ced "'' "' *'''' ''^- ^itty,
nature for a press-writer and ////-' P'^'^^wcntly fitted by
so amazing, that a c"ever talke "t:"' . «'r*"»''^''J"'aI
can do everything in the worH brS- t^T "^*"*«
« ' paint, and he couid do
Izri
OEOROB ELIOT.
that, too, after a week's study." At this time, besides assist-
ing in the editorship of the Clasaical Muieum, he wrote for
the Iteming Chronicle, the Athetueiim, the Edinburgh, For-
eign Quarterly, British Quarterly, Blackwood, Fraaer, and the
Weatminater Review. After publishing ' A Biographical His-
tory of Philosophy,' through Mr. Knight's ' Weekly Volumes '
in 1846, he wrote two novels, ' Banthorpe,' and ' Bose, B ohe,
and Violet,' which successively appeared in 1847 and 1848.
But fiction was not bis forte, these two productions being
singularly crude aud immature as compared with his excel-
lent philosophical work. Some jokes in the papers about
" rant " killed what little life there was in ' Banthorpe.'
Ifevertheless, Charlotte BrontS, who had some correspondence
with M;- Lewes about 1847, actually wrote about it as fol-
lows : " In reading ' Banthorpe,' I have read a new book,
not a reprint, not a reflecti9n of any other book, but a nena
book." Another great writer, Edgar Foe, admired it no less,
for he says of the work : " I have lately read it with deep
interest, and derived great consolation from it also. It re-
lates to the career of a literary man, and gives a just view of
the true aims and the true dignity of the literary character."
' The Spanish Drama ; ' ' The Life of Maxmilian Bobes-
pierre, with extracts from his unpublished correspondence ; '
' The Noble Heart : a Tragedy ; ' all followed in close succes-
sion from the same inexhaustible pen. The last, it was said,
proved also a tragedy to the publishers. But not content
with writing dramas, Mr. Lewes was also ambitious of the
fame of an actor, the theatre having always possessed a strong
fascination for him. Already m a child he had haunted the
theatres, and now, while delivering a lecture at the Philo-
sophical Institution in Edinburgh, he shocked its staid habi-
tues not a little by immediately afterwards appearing on the
stage in the character of Shylock : so many, and seemingly
incompatible, were Lewes's pursuits. But this extreme mo-
bility of mind, this intellectual tripping f om subject to sub-
ject, retarded the growth of his popularity. The present
mechanical subdivision of labor has most unfortunately also
affected the judgment passed on literary and artistic products.
Let a man once have written a novel typical of the manners
?niL
OEOHGE HENRY LEWES.
kvii
composed a S « rthf ^/^ "^"0^^ ^""^ °'
some bygone media,yal sinLrheTmtlH '"'^}^«^t^ of
ot his days, to do the same '^Lg oVe^ f Tol ' *" """ ""^
naweam. Nothing can well be mL I ! " *«*"■' "^
reading world ' '"="°^" ''^ Siving it to the
unsuccessful weekly the /f/ f^u*^"" °* *''»' ''"e but
aryeditorfrori849to,Si5 "t"'"^ 7^"='' ^^ ^'^ t^e liter-
C7mte were oHg S^wSn tT '" "'"'^^ °" ^"«-*«
collected into a volume forBnW ^^P".'' *"'* ^""''ards
John Stuart Mill heTs to 1! !fT'- ^''^^^^' ^''^' Mr.
neutof Positifis^t E glanVVlt^^ T '^ ' '^^^
'Cours de Philosor>hi^ p^.J^'^\ ,?« °°* °"ly considt.ed the
scientific question^ Tht ^inl hk oh" f V^^ '''''' "" "*'>"
detect the law of mental l^.t^ his object, he was forced to
This law isThe Uw of hTt^riZ '^'°™ ^' """'-^ ^-'^-<^-
Mr. Lewes, with Ws talent for^ P^gression." But while
U.O. thanW othe: "^^ZTTZ^^I^
.:9mt»jl_C
Ixviii
OEOROE ELIOT.
ciples of Comte's philosophy in this country, he was at the
same time violently opposed to his ' Politique Potitive,' witli
its schemes of social reorganization.
Even so slight a survey as this must show the astonishing
discursiveness of Mr. Lewes's intellect. By the time he
was thirty he had already tried his hand at criticism, fiction,
biography, the drama, and philosophy. He had enlarged his
experience of human nature by foreign travel; he had ad-
dressed audiences from the lecturer's platform; he had en-
joyed the perilous sweets of editing a newspaper j he had even,
it is said, played the harlequin in a company of strolling actors.
Indeed, Mr. Thackeray was once heard to say that it would
not surprise him to meet Lewes in Piccadilly, riding on a
white elephant ; whilst another wit likened him to the Wan-
dering Jew, as you could never tell where he was going to
turn up, or what he was going to do next.
In this discursiveness of intellect he more nearly resembled
the Encyclopedists of the eighteenth century than the men of
his own time. Indeed, his personal appearance, temperament,
manners, general tone of thought, seemed rather to be those
of a highly accomplished foreigner than of an English-
m.an. He was a lightly built, fragile man, with bushy curly
hair, and a general shagginess of beard and eyebrow not
unsuggestive of a Skye terrier. For the rest, he had a promi-
nent mouth and gray, deeply set eyes under an ample, finely
proportioned forehead. Volatile by nature, somewhat wild and
lawless in his talk, he in turn delighted and shocked his
friends by the gayety, recklessness, and genial abandon of his
manners and conversation. His companionship was singu-
larly stimulating, for the commonest topic served him as a
starting-point for the lucid development of some pet philo-
sophical theory. In this gift of making abstruse problems
intelligible, and difficult things easy, he had some resemblance
to the late W. K. Clifford, with his magical faculty of illumi-
nating the most abstruse subjects by his vivid directness
of exposition.
As Lewes's life was so soon to be closely united to that of
Marian Evans, this cursory sketch of his career will not seem
inappropriate. At the time they met at Dr. Chapman's house.
OEOKGE HENKY LEWES. Uix
Mr. Lewes, who had married early in life fnnn,i n
relations irretrievably spoiled How f!: t„K, °°?^"»'''
Bight attach to one side or to thf oLr / '"°"' °^ ">"
here. Enough that in the'°ilM':,'e':^:h" a T"" 1
such astonishins intellept v»ri„^ • * woman of
aympathy, Mr. feC S J/edl c^Zr^' i^^ ""
ing-points had re^heH T ' ' ^T ""='' '*"^«"°t start-
eafh^her f» h^ final fruitT 'f^r'"'''""^'^ *° "^^-^
what was best in th. A e.is's was^T' '^«^«'°P??«°' "^
rrtronrwirro?-" r-^ "- — ^
the appearance of '.lino Tfo-L) ,„ I, "" """ree jaws. On
on a defenoe'^oT^rrhttal^ro^D Il^'n ^1 t"""!' ^"'"
foster a passion sufficient to rou^e all the fa.,„lt7es to a" I
".aa,ng or retamuig its beloved object- to convert indi;:
*w__^
In
OEOROE EUOT.
into «otiTity, indifference into ardent partisanihip, dnlneu
into perspicuity."
Such a, union, formed in the full maturity of thought and
feeling, was now contracted by Marian Evans and George
Henry Lewes. Legal union, however, there could be none,
for though virtually separated from his wife, Mr. Lewes coulu
not get a divorce. Too little has as yet transpired concerning
this important step to indicate more than the bare outline of
events. Enough that Mr. Lewes appears to have written a
letter in which, after a full explanation of his circumstances,
he used all his powers of persuasion to win Miss Evans for
his life-long companion; that she consented, after having
satisfied her conscience that in reality she was not injuring
the claims of others ; and that henceforth she bore Mr.
Lewes's name, and became his wife in every sense but the
legal one. ,
This proceeding caused the utmost consternation amongst
her acquaintances, especially amongst her friends at Bosehill.
The former intimate and affectionate intercourse with Mrs.
Bray and her sister was only gradually restored, and only
after they had come to realize how perfectly her own con-
science had been consulted and satisfied in the matter. Miss
Hennell, who had already entered on the scheme of religious
doctrine which ever since she has been setting forth in her
printed works, "swerved nothing from her own principles
that the maintenance of a conventional form of marriage (re-
moulded to the demands of the present age) is essentially
attached to all religion, and pre-eminently so to the religion
of the future."
In thus defying public opinion, and forming a connection in
opposition to the laws of society, George Eliot must have
undergone some trials and sufferings peculiarly painful to one
so shrinkingly sensitive as herself. Conscious of no wrong-
doing, enjoying the rare happiness of completest intellectual
fellowship in the man she loved, the step she had taken made
a gap between her kindred and herself which could not but
gall her clinging, womanly nature. To some of her early
companions, indeed, who had always felt a certain awe at the
imposing gravity of her manners, this dereliction from what
i^ ^
OlOBGK HENRT LSWM. i,,j
How far the indiTiHiinl «■■« "OBvena tailing down,
th. dictate, of hrpSiadLTnV ^ ^'"'^'"^ '" foUo'^i-g
«nd prevalent opinbnTof 'bt'ZTZ "^^V'^"" ^^ ""» 1*'»
. question no l^es difficult hrde^lfeTfT """' """'"
precisely the point where th« hTv. i °* "^eo'sion. It is
.ometimes ap^^nt^ m"e tsitf .*"* ?•"'""' *"«* '!"« 'owes
torn may be ^ to Z^mUtZw^' 'l°Tl"°° *° "-
exaltation of the reformer h,3?*^ ** **« spiritual
sake of an idea, or mayTpri' ^rth/?.'''' .°'"*"'"'" ^°' 'h«
rebelUous PromptingsTr^itstia, ^^ "^ 'j:°"? P""'^
mzes no law higher than thaTnV T""' '^'•''''' ™oo«-
the same time, if seems ttal^l P'""'"'' gratification. At
in the evolution TZ£t\^^y,^'°.T'' '^'^^ '"'^ ^ ""ade
part of individuals f^mthe^i'nt'^'"' •'«P«'""s on the
Mures help even u^ totards ,tt° '^'^'■"" «^«" "■«
18 beneficial and possiwrlf .<^ ^ " ^cognition of what
c«rft, Shelley, (^o?^ tLdl« v '"T',' ^"^ Wollstone-
i'ts, with t/eir ol'^unTsUc exSnenf '"A''"*?'"''°''-*^-
more or less strove to be Sh-finde™ teVw^'' ^''"°' '^^
state of society. Geors.. Fw\ ^ * '*""' ^n*! happier
order of mind C^ull ^ '"'*''*'• '"^'^ ^^'ong^d to Uiig
of the -rLing Taw^^f "srer"*:' \",'° discard one
herself jm,tified ilToLg sTb^' L'^'^'^S' '^^ '°^"^'^i
whole, more enlisted inZ steta nJ «yn>Pathie8 were, on the
they might be It i« o!^.?^** °^ .""'"8" « they are than as
in her fwn life h J fo,w2 ^^ *!■-* *''<' -nian, wh"
severing herself in nia^y wlvs f«n, V°''"P"°''*°' <"'"«'''
traditional sanctities, sSd yet 1^1^'-^',' '''^ "" ""
opposite teaching in her works »V, m '"f^^^^ 'he very
slavish adherence to whatever s,™^*^ '"u"^"*** »» almost
ties a human being mayttrn to ° "''' ^'""'' ""^ '^"^
Gerrny sS^^rmtg^;;;.^^'^^^ *°f ^-^— t to
by death, gave to^h X CVir'^V^"'"^' ""^^ ^''ding-
lives. Many marr^lrtlm^.^'f .«''° ^«" lacking in thei?
in with all the ostenTt on Silt" Xt''"''^ '""* ^'^""^
^-g breakf^t, are inde^d^^irZ^tiltsr r^X '
4^7
Izzii
QEORGB ELIOT.
deeper human aspects which this relation implies, 1 jan the
one contracted in this informal manner. Indeed, to those
who saw them together, it seemed as if they could noyer be
aiart Yet, while so entirely at one, each respected the
others individuality, his own, at the same time, gaining in
strength by the contact. Mr. Lewes's mercurial disposition
now assumed a stability greatly enhancing his brilliant talents
and for the first time facilitating that concentration of Intel-
lect so necessary for the production of really lasting philo-
sophic work. On the other hand, George Eliot's still dormant
faculties were roused and stimulated to the utmost by the
man to whom this union with her formed the most memorable
year of his life. By his enthusiastic belief in her he gave her
the only thing she wanted — a thorough belief in herself. In-
deed, he was more than a husband : he was, as an intimate
friend once pithily remarked,,a very mother to her. Tenderly
watching over her delicate health, cheering the grave tenor of
her thoughts by his inexhaustible buoyancy, jealously shield-
ing her from every adverse breath of criticism, Mr. Lewca in a
manner created the spiritual atmosphere in which George Eliot
could best put forth all the flowers and fruits of her genius.
In joining her life with that of Mr. Lewes, the care of his
three children devolved upon George Eliot, who henceforth
showed them the undeviating love and tenderness of a mother.
One of the sons had gone out to Natal as a young man, and
contracted a fatal disease, which, complicated with some acci-
dent, resulted in an untimely death. He returned home a
hopeless invalid, and his tedious illness was cheered by the
affectionate tendance of her who had for so many years acted
a mother's part towards him.
CHAPTER VII.
SCENES OF CLERICAL LIFE.
As has already been mentioned, Mr. Lewes and Marian
went to Germany in 1854, dividing the year between Berlin,
Munich, and Weimar. In the latter pleasant little Saxon
pi m
8CBNE8 OF CLERICAI, LIFB. I„m
ful days, wandering in G<^the.s*lv" T"' '°"y '^'"■8'''-
neighborhood, and' njS .o^ o/?h "' "■" '*''"'*^"'
•ooiety in Germany. Seve^ aS. ,,' """' cultivated
erature, afterward^ pSd t .i:"!^;?"" '''* "" "»■
were probably written «f7i,»- r^, '♦*»"»»'"'«'• Jteview,
noza'.'.EthicsCGeorl E otw^; ^"^ '"""'''"°° "^ ^y
foot-note, "It ma^ interest 8oJ« ™ :0°«"'«'8 Life,' says, in a
will ere long apZr in Fnl? r ^■'"'''" '" '*»'» *'>''t Sp noza
lines." This ^^a deSlt:''"'' "^ the writer of thes^
ha. not yet n>ade i^ap^zLoeZ "'""''. "" '""""■"""'
would now be warmly we^o^d ^ ^ "' Publication
i« the way, a. the .torrgo^rthat ^r. '^ '"y- *"<> this
had returned from th/cnr^f' . ?* discovered it. They
I-ndon, both aolvely en^r^ed "n m' T"* "*"'«'' ''S"'" »
unless in certain oases ofTi'nh'."'^; ^"' '"^'ature,
the worst paid of r.U work Mr Le^* ^r^^''^' " ""''»?«
"ot too well off. The fomer infinif! "^ ^''°'«* ^""t were
self tried every form of™temuret'"."^^
notice the matchless i»wer o? ^p .""' """^'^ °°t fail to
matching it in power oTth/fi,^""""' '"'' the memory
iJea struck him^^jS/^^f/,, ^"ture novelist, ^ne day a^
write a capital story7 Shorily X*"'' 7 "l.'"'' ^""^ """Id
dinner engagement, ^b„t TCK^Zj '^^ ^^ """^
»a..^ "I won't go out this evenKf wh« *" «° °"'' "'"'
don't disturb me. I shall be very busy " ' An^ .f " ="■"« ■»
the 'S«enes of Clerical Tif»' „; /' ^""^ this was how
being shown a p^rtbfof be fim'tai:" < A^ "" l"'"""' «"
Lewes was fairly amazed ' ^"^ " ^'^'''' ^'■
^'^y'^Z;'^^^^-^^ •>"*, if not
testimony of friends LZTl^^'Z it"^"' t ^^^^^^
-ho first incited the gifted womT, oftlr" ^^ ''^""
I ui wnose great powers
mm
IzxiT
OEOBUE EUOT.
!l . ^ .*!^* ^ '""" ' judgment, to expreM henclf in
that ipeoies of literature which would afford the fulleit scope
to the creative and dramatic facultiei which ihe lo eminenUv
poB«e»»ed. Here, however, hU iniluenoe ended. He helped
to reveal George Eliot to benelf, and after that then wm
little left for him to do. But thii gift of Btimulating another
by Bympathetic luaight and critical appreciation is itself of
priceless value. When Schiller died, Goethe said, " The half
of my existence U gone from me." A terrible word to utter
for one so great. But never again, he knew, would he meet
with the same complete comprehension, and, laoki!.g that, his
genius iteelf seemed less his own than before.
There is an impression abroad that Mr. Lewes, if anythinB
did some injury to George Eliot from a literary point of view-
that the nature of his pursuite led her to adopt too technical
and pedantic a phraseology in her novels. But thU idea is
unjust to both. In comparing her earliest with her latest
style, It IS clear that from the first she was apt to cull her
Illustrations from the physical sciences, thereby showing how
much these studies had become part of herself. Indeed, she
was far more liable to introduce these scientific modes of
expression than Mr. Lewes, as may be easily seen by compar-
ing his ' Life of Goethe,' partly re-writton in 1864, with some
of her essays of the same date. As to her matter, it is
curious how much of it was drawn from the earliest sources
of memory — from that life of her childhood to which she
may sometimes have turned yearningly as to a long-lost Para-
dise. Most of her works might, indeed, not inaptly be called
•Looking Backward.' They are a half-pathetic, half-hnmor-
ous, but entirely tender revivification of the " days that are
no more." No one, however intimate, could really intermeddle
with the workings of a genius drawing its happiest inspira.
tion from the earliest experiences of its own individual past.
Nothing is more characteristic of this obvious tendency
than the first of the 'Scenes of Clerical Life,' 'The Sad
Fortunes of the Kev. Amos Barton.' At Chilvers Coton the
ounous in such matters may still see the identical church
where the incumbent of Shepperton used to preach sermons
Shrewdly compounded of High Church doctrines and Low
•CKNK8 or CUtHICAt X,1FI.
">ll«.e the little ohu«h',rdthfK"»K ^'""' ""^ may
the pal. gr.v.,tone.," in "«,e,iW ."^r'' "" *» <«'» P"t
a handaor,., .„f,,^tv, „ „C,„« ^^ i""*" '»"«' i» one.
'■••' flF.OV.u Wl,« OF TH.
K^^. J'. 'IS GWYTHEB,B.A
''IUT;. ,„THW PABMH, '
IfOy. 4TH, 1M»,
ajreet woman: heard the oTrcuinll T? •?"' ""'^ "^ t^"^"
8lea to make the two ends of 1 rii* f '**;'" °^ •"« »t"^«-
■neet the yearly expenses "hearfheriri"""^ ^'"''» '■"'°»e
2t °' *""• ^"^"^'^ blame hSwJ^tZ"" '°"'' ('^ *''«
">g the presence in her house of Th. , ^~'^»«°'» i" tolerat-
countess, who, having initiated h ^"""""""""i exacting
Amos by her talk of t1,e X n«'',, ^/Z^" Ti"^ "^^ «""'"!
much scandal in the neiehb^^hLi t ''""'^ »*' ^im, gave
deatb.bed.when,wor:b;fa.^:nrtil'r' "',*'"' P»'^^«'
qmetly away, leaving a lif^W vnW ' k ^'"'"'' '^« «>'bed
;«d home. All this^Jtt tefk °f thi " ^f'"""^'" ''^'^
George Eliot was a girl a^dh« . "^^*~''''<~<' ''hen
allowed nothing to esS™' ^ ^"^ "'^aordinary memory
On the completion of .Amos Barton,. Mr. Lewes, who...
-n.-^.mJl
Ixzyi
OEOBGS ELIOT.
already mentioned, was a contributor to 'Maga,' sent the
MS. to the editor, the late Mr. John Blackwood, as the work
of an anonymous friend. This was in the autumn of 1866.
The other scenes of ' Clerical Life " were then unwritten, but
the editor was informed that the story submitted to his
approval formed one of a series. Though his judgment was
favorable, he begged to see some of the other tales before
accepting this, freely making some criticisms on the plot and
studies of character in 'Amos Barton.' This, however, dis-
heartened the author, whose peculiar diffidence had only been
overcome by Mr. Lewes's hearty commendation. When the
editor had been made awaie of the injurious effect of his
objections, he hastened to efface it by accepting the tale
without further delay. It appeared soon afterwards in BUuk-
wood't Magazine for January 1867, where it occupied the first
place. This story, by some considered as fine as anything
the novelist ever wrote, came to an end in the next number.
'Mr. Gilfil's Love-story' and 'Janet's Bopentanoe ' were
written in quick succession, and the series was completed in
November of the same year.
Although there was nothing sufficiently sensational in these
' Scenes ' to arrest the attention of that great public which
must be roused by something new and startling, literary
judges were not slow to discern the powerful realism with
which the author had drawn these uncompromising studies
from life. After the appearance of 'Amos Barton,' Mr.
Blackwood wrote to the anonymous author: "It is a long
time since I have read anything so fresh, so humorous, and
so touching. The style is capital, conveying so much in so
few words." Soon afterwards he began another letter : " My
dear Amos, I forget \thether I told you or Lewes that I had
shown part of the MS. to Thackeray. He was staying with
me, and having been out at dinner, came in about eleven
o'clock, when I had just finished reading it. I said to him,
'Do you know that I think I have lighted upon a new author,
who is uncommonly like a first-class passenger." I showed
him a page or two, I think the passage where the curate
returns home and Milly is first introduced. He would not
pronounce whether it came up to my ideas, but remarked
.4#i :f
teats m ciBBiojx up, ,, ..
a woman. I„ the meanwhile LL, ^'"' '*"" ''""«» by
collected form, and the? were ^ . ' I**™ '^P^^'ed in a
^ritmg to Mr-'Lewesat tlU orr""^ '"^^ '^« «"«'<'■•!
b»ok had hardly been out a month If. ^^ ^^- '"'en the
21u.t haa fairly achieved a iS Z f i' *° '"'^' " ^"^S-
"'d the public must follow Sou/h^°°'""°"»J'«^»««.
And in a letter to George Etl^'t Wlf h ""^ '*''« «"«•"
"You will recollect, when we proS^ ^"'" •- February:
"ion was that the series ha^^non^l!? T'°'' "^ '"P-^'-
inagazine to give you a hoWon L^n ?* '°°"«'' '" "">
long enough to make your iL^l'^ "^ P""'"' '^«'°"«li
e^^oeptional cases, a ver^ ion. ^TV^''^'^°°- ^"l'««> in
two stages of repnt.u7lZl^°^'' fT"' '*"'««° 'he
progress will be ,«r«, if „ot so autw^ ''" P"''""- ^°"
While the sketches wele^2^';''«f.''«'^»ld wish."
Messrs. Blackwood informe" ite aLlT'T'' '" book-form,
cause for "■aWng a large Serene X; fortl "'^ ''^ 8°°^
All sorts of rumors were abroad as Jrt, ^^ '** ««'"'««•
clerical tales. Misled by al^t J? ?! f ""^ """"" "^ 'bese
the real scent, Mr. Blackw^ J'J^rfi 'f'^ *" '^""' "•" "«
»ion that they were the w„k oT^^ ' "°''"' *'"' i"'P««^
perhaps have been the orTe^n of .MvT°"^' ■""* *bis may
qmte recently, that GeZ'^Em'lZ"^ ""«*''•' ""
clergyman a statement made bv sL^ l""" •'*"s'"<" "^ a
papers after her death rblndon^?,^ V^" '"^'''°» "aily
■nan, Mr. Blackwood next fixed "i^* ''"' ""«» °^ the clergy,
person to wit, Professor Owen wb'^mV''^ ''"'''"'°* "■"* °f
the similarity of hand-writingand th« ^^^ '".T'*'^ ""'"^ 'o
except.o„^ in a novelist No !es, ftn '"^''v''°°^'*'Je« "<>
mmm'^M4imMi^m
Uxviii
OEOROE ELIOT.
that Bulwer has gone the way of all fashions, it seems in.
credible that the most obtuse and slow-witted of critics should
have mistaken for a moment his high-flown sentimental style
for the new author's terse, vigorous, and simple prose.
It was impossible, however, for an author to remain a mere
nameless abstraction. An appellation of some kind became
an imperative necessity, and, during the passage of 'Mr
Gilfil's Love-Stoiy' through the press the pseudonym of
George Eliot"— a name destined to become so justly re-
nowned — was finally assumed.
The 'Scenes of Clerical Life ' were to George Eliof s future
works what a bold, spirited sketch is to a carefully elaborated
picture. All the qualities that distinguished her genius may
be discovered in this, her first essay in fiction. With all Miss
Austen's matchless faculty for painting common-place charac
ters, George Eliot has that' other nobler faculty of showing
what tragedy, pathos, and humor may be lying in the ex-
perience of a human soul "that looks out through dull gray
eyes, and that speaks in a voice of quite ordinary tones."
While depicting some common-place detail of every-day life,
she has the power to make her reader realize its close relation
to the universal life. She never gives you the mere dry bones
and fragments of existence as represented in some particular
section of society, but always manages to keep before the
mind the invisible links connecting it with the world at large.
In 'Mr. Gilfil's Love-Story ' there is a passage as beautiful as
any in her works, and fully illustrating this attitude of her
mind. It is where Tina, finding herself deceived in Cap-
tain Wybrow, gives way to her passionate grief in solitude.
"While this poor little heart was being bruised with a
weight too heavy for it, Nature was holding on her calm in-
exorable way, in unmoved and terrible beauty. The stars
were rushing in their eternal courses ; the tides swelled to the
level of the last expectant weed ; the sun was making brilliant
day to busy nations on the other side of the swift earth. The
stream of human thought and deed was hurrying and broaden-
ing onwsrd. The astronomer was at his telescope ; the great
ships were laboring over the waves ; the toiling eagerness of
commeree, the fierce spirit of revolution, were only ebbing in
SCENES OP CLERICAL LIFE.
... *"• Ixxix
trouble in this n^ghu tT^ut ™h-" '"^" '^'"^ -^d !>"
known to another? L^-'tZ 1^ ^'""^ °°* "''f"! ""'
quivering life in the water^™„T^i^ ""*^^*'' '=«°'™ °f
the pulse of anguish in^?£?^ ^At".'"'^ "'"'''"'I ^^ -^
fluttered dowtfto its nesVwitt^L w ' ""'f' '''"* ''"*' ^^^^
fomui the nest torn and 7^^" '°°8-«°»8''' f-^, ^d ha«
thanrei^he??f"thrtwootw"s^ ">" »'<"7 of Mr. Gilfi,
•AaosBarton'th^ivi^L ' ?^'°^^^^^^^^ ^'^«' ^-
been indicated ; andX eiemenl f '""P''"*' ^ ''^ "''^""iy
PeatanceMs composed are asS '"'" ''^''='' 'J-wst's ««-
•nent of plot. The author ZuZ aT ^1^ T^'^^ ^'"'^^g'e-
oircmstances of Engliriife t/. th '^'' *^/ '"°^' "^'^'^^'y
the human emotions which sDr^nlf ^T^''^ rendering of
vivid hold Of the imagination .^^'2 Gilfi,.''r *f ^' ^ ■""«'
ever, seems a little Italian roman™^ ! I-ove-Story,' how-
It is, in brief, the mrmion of hi «"'T.'' .°" ^^S'"*" =«!•
and his wife, duriueXtr ri "f ^" Christopher Cneverel
little orphan girl -iS^^i'^'frt''' ^'^'"'' """^ P'ty on a
queer little f^e like the pS'Tl''^*^ »^°°« ^-^ out he^
parved in old ivory." cXinaTr -^ ' '" t «'°'«'iue image
^k to Cheverel^a^^J^^C^nl^^he is called, takl^
Baronet's wife, to whom ahl^Jl f *' ^^^ '^ »f the
tional musical talent. Sir Chri?^„h""l™f'^ ^^ ^'' «««P-
had chosen his nephew Canto7nt& I' ^^ "° °*'"dren, but
planned a marriage between ht Z^""' ^°' ^" ^""^ and
3ome and accomplisred ownerof"". ^T ''''^'- '^^ ^^and-
carriage, on which he has equ^^^L't S. T'^''^ ^o*"-
his ward Maynard Gilfil Toln ]''*"''""'*' between
destined for the Church a^dT ^'n ""^^'^ y°"°8 f«»ow
Tina, for whom he ha^ lon„ n ?«"°w.voiced, large-eyed
But alas, for the fu'tifify SumrlnT- "t'"'"^'' '-"-
elegant Anthony Wybrow h^ vl ^ ' ^'"^ *° "horn the
suffers tortures of SoTsT in h? T«"^ P^^^^^'-^S ""ve,
he has dutifully bicome IgagTd eVm^f ^^"« ^.^I'". to whom'
Manor. The treacherous clXin f^T,?^v^ "'" *" C''«'«'"l
betrothed, insinuates Uu^ 3^ S^i!! T^^' '"'P'"°°« "^ his
P«0' Miss faaru entertains a hope-
Ixxx
OEOROE ELIOT.
less passion for him, which puts the poor girl, who gets an
inklmg of this double^ealing, into a frenzy of indignation.
In this state she possesses herself of a dagger, and as she is
going to meet the Captain by appointment, dreams of plunging
the weapon in the traitor's heart. But on reaching the aiv
pointed spot, she beholds the false lover stretched motion^
less on the ground already - having suddenly.died of heart
disease Tina's anguish is indescribable: she gives the alarm
to the household, but stung by remorse for a contemplated
revenge of which her tender-hearted nature was utterly in-
^pable, she flies unperceived from the premises at night
Being searched for in vain, she is suspected of having com-
mitted suicide. After some days of almost unbearable sus-
pense, news IS brought that Tina is lying ill at the cottage of
a former maid in the household. With reviving hopeTher
anxious lover rides to the farm, sees the half.«tunued, unhappy
girl, and, after a while, manages to remove her to his sister's
house. She gradually recovers under Mrs. Heron's gentle
tendance, and one day a child's accidental striking of a deep
bass note on the harpsichord suddenly revives her old passionate
delight in music. And ' the soul that was bom anew to music
was born anew to love.' After a while Tina agrees te become
Mr. G.Ifal s wife who has been given the living at Shepperton,
where a happy future seems in store for the Vicar. "But the
delicate plant had been too deeply bruised, and in the struggle
to put forth a blossom it died.
"Tina died, and Maynard Gilfil's love went witt her into
deep silence forevermore."
sit^^nlt' ""'' 'y^P'^^^y with the homeliest characters and
TTT'/'' '^°1 P™P«'ly «P«»king, springing from it,
there already runs through these three tales the delicious vein
o ^T°;.™d.ating George Eliot's otherwise sombre ^ctuZ
of life with sudden flashes of mirth as of sunlight trembling
George Eliot not only takes precedence of aU other distin-
^ished women, but she stands among them without a rival
otseUIt on Ttfl' °"'"""' •"" '''«' "'''* -«-'« -ioPt^o*
blunZ !,. »'if '°« °''"' °^ "''' inconsistencies and the
blunders, the self-delusions and "fantastic pranks" of her
I
SCENES OF CLERICAL LIFE.
'"• Ixxxi
feUow-men, finds the source of lau^hc^,
never going out of her way for th. "^^ '""" <» *^'»;
tumn nature, seeing t Jtfuman n,*"""''! "°/°d P*'''^^' «
M the epitome of all inc^ngruTtv It" .. f "P^^"" *° ''«
tion and unerringness of visk-n ^i. ■ ''l" ''™*"' °^ oo^cep-
and accidental tl the core of "an'e ^i* T°'"''' *''« "'""'^
certain of her creations something of Te jiHr '''"'' ^"^
of Shakespeare's. * '™ "fe-like complexity
artisILfard'^^u^rf^otSilirw "^ """""'" °* ?«'"''■"».
and phrases of pmons oZtrv or^.v *^' ^^'^^estures
varieties of inhabitants of our^ J 1'°"*"' ^"^ »*''"
districts, already manrstsLj^f/r-"""'' *°^'"' a°d rural
Here we find such ^1 L m' ^^^^ "'*'"""' "'«»«" """e^
brutal, drunken lawye^ Mr l.n?""^?^'''' *''" ""'"'upulous,
mannered, and aplutSg^^etor ^Zfu, ? '^'^'^*^^' ""^^I.-
wg and blistering his patienU M^nZf^ ^^'"^^ *° "eed-
wth a tender lofe-sto^ hTdde'n^'n f l"'' eccentric vicar,
the large-hearted, unfortunate In^. ^'"»«8«d exterior
by Mr T^an. th; asce«c evangSl'w '""° ■?°^' ••"'»
acter, the author remarks mi^hf W. elergyman, whose char-
•ng in perfection by feeb e ifd ^Za"" ^'"""* "^^f ''ant-
adds, "The blessedUk of hSi/!'''^"«,"'i"'la, but, as she
does not wait to be done by Irfecfm^ world forward happily
that neither Luther nor So'^f 1^^ ° ' fn" ''''•''^,'^ •'"''8i°«
bave satisfied the modern demanTfn' T""^^"' ''°"W
believes nothing but That is tn? , ?' "" '^'^ ''«™' ''bo
exalted, and dLs 1^1 but ^'hlf^ """""« *"" ^'^" '«
Heroes of God's makingafe a, i J^ .r" «''^'^"'- ^he real
natural heritage of lovf and T .'•'^^^n'-- they have their
-ith their m^hert milk . thev kno?""'' "'"'"' '"^^ "J-- in
spiritual truths whiXaw oYlv t^'L °' ,'''° °* ''>°»« deep
with their own sins and tlSw^.^ ^"^ ^^ '""S wrestling
faith and strength so far al thl^h ''^^ '^'^ ^^'' '^"'^
but the rest is dry barrel fh!f ^m ''°'"' S*""*"" work,
hearsay." ^' '*™° ""^^'y. blank prejudice, vague
c.S^:haXr?hSttr ii" r-^'^p^^ °^ ^-o
- its manifestations. ^CSr ^ ^£«^^e in
IzzzU
OEORGE ELIOT.
these '80^.' in . Janet's Bepentanoe ' we already discover
one of Geo^ Baiot's favorite psychologioal studies -the
awakening of a moraUy mixed nature to a new, a spiritual lif.s.
This ^rk of regeneration Mr. Trjran performs for Janet,
Pehx Holt for Esther, and Daniel Deronda for Gwendolei^
Her protest against the application of too lofty a moral stand-
ard in judging of our fellow-creatures, her championship of
the "mongrel, ungainly dogs who are nobody's pets," is
another of the prominent qualities of her genius fully ex-
pressed m this firstling work, being, indeed, at the root of her
liumorous conception of life. One of the finest bits of humor
in the present volume is the scene in 'Amos Barton" which
occurs at the workhouse, euphemistically called the " CoUeire."
Mr. Barton, having just finished his address to the paupeii is
thus accosted by Mr. Spratt, " a small-featured, small-stotured
man, with a remarkable powir of language, mitigated by hesi-
s^hLhT ^"^""^ ""'""l" °" "P^Mi-g unexceptionable
sentiments in unexceptionable language on all occasions.
Mr. Barton, sir — aw - aw — excuse my trespassing on
your time _ aw -to beg that you will administer a rebX to
tms boy; he is - aw - aw - most inveterate in Ul-behavior
during semce-time.' uou»ywr
" The inveterate culprit was a boy of seven, vainly contend-
sooner had Mr. Spratt uttered his impeachment than M^
Fodge rushed forward, and placed herself between Mr. Barton
and the accused. "~i«<u
™I'?''?''' r^""""^' M.°ster Barton,' she exclaimed, further
n^ifesting her maternal instincts by applying herapron to
a.poundin> him for nothin.' Let him goo an' eat his ^oost
goose as is ^smellin' ,p in our noses wUle we 'reTsw^le^g
them greasy broth, an' let my bov alooan.'
"Mr. Spratt's small eyes flashed, and he was in danger of
nttenng sentiments not unexceptionable befor., the clergyman :
wnnw'' ^f^°'J°^f.f'^g that a prolongation of this episode
would not be to edification, said 'Silence!' in his severest
» ' Let me hear no abuse. Your boy is not likely to behave
ADAM BEDE.
luxiii
■Wwll, if you set him the examnU „» u.-
ing dowu to MMter Fo^!n^ iv °«.^>«'J'-' Then stoop-
' I>o /ou like being^^^', """^ '^"'8 ^ by the shouldeV"
"'No— a."
" ' ''■'»«" what a silly boy yon »«. t„ K«
''ere not naughty, you would nV^ ^ . °*°«''*^- " 7°"
naughty, God will' 1^ ^^y, L weU ^m\ ^"' ^ y"" "«
ow burn yo« forever. That^JiuTl . \ ^P™" ' ■"'* 0°d
"Master Fodee's nn„nf ^ "''"' '''a" being beaten '
negative of ^.^lL;:^r'^ '"" ''-'^« afflrmftive no'r
*^'w^^;or;5i^;„^'•';^'you wUlbeagood boy.
Now. let .e hear 'ne. iru^X^^T Xl^ ^^^ ^
CHAPTER Vin.
■4DAM BEDB.
-^hS^cuSre! sTh « Sel^" '"'' '''''' -"^ " &-
We haye seen her girZ^Z^^^ ^J"' '^ *^°'»« Eliot,
variety of studies, wfha^serhr/'*'' "" ««raordinary
physical "Peculati'orj wXye s2''i"T'' *° ="«*"«« "«<^
the most laborious phiTosonhLl • ''", '^'""ating some of
thinkers; we haye seen W '"^^'''"Sations of German
the < Ethics ' of Spino^ tn T\°, *"""'''"«» from the Latin
ing. and attracted~ome of tt ^' 7 "'"^ "''«'' "«' ^"-"^
ophy, and literature ^ ^''*'^''"' « ^o'^^e, philos-
Compared with such qualifications »!,„
compete ? What could a Dictn" ^r° T"^"°^'"«'« e°uld
throw into the opposing sca^eTr/ ^.^^ackeray himself,
for her in yariety of aftlinlnf ^ITv""^""'"' '^'» » "atch
attempts at fiction, and LatLn? l'.^'^ """^^ '«-«''^l
Whenatlas,inthematur^;\rh1r^;i-j;-a^^^^^
l\y
(xxzir
OBORQE ELIOT.
r^^tl^T ^^'J ''" P"^"**^ » '«'^" « "Woh th« amplest
mulU of knowledge and meditation were so happUy Uek^
Stiu!rr''T"'" '"'^'^P itiamediatelyas one o7tte
great triumph, and masterpieces in the world of fiction.
f i«, ! ^v noticmg that in 'Adam Bede' Qeonre Eliot
fu^fals to the utmost the demands which she had^ tt^
retioal y advocating in her essays. In some oflhesTshe h^
not only eloquently enforced the importance of a trnthft^
^U8 7„°Th, '""""' ""' "^ pointed out how the S 2
thus in the very vanguard of social and political reform.
o" L Z rr!,?* '■"'«i»''«°" 'ith Z real cond tTon'
wifw^ P ' ^"^'^ '""'''' towards creating that sympathy
w.th their wants, their trials, and their sufferin^rS
And in D^kens she had recognized the one great novelist
who, m certain respects, had painted the lowef orders with
unerring truthfulness. His "Oliver Twists," hs«Ccy»
h s -Joes,,' were terrible and pathetic pictures of the forlorn
outeasts haunting our London streets And if. as Geor«
Ehot says, Dickens had been able to "give ,« their psTch^
bgic^ character, their conception of life' and their em^l"
would t T" *"!*'' ■" *'"" ''^'°'» ""1 °«"°«". hi* book^
TwaSntf nf T'Y contribution Art has ever made to the
awakening of sociai sympathies." Now George Eliot abso-
lutely does what Dickens aimed at doing. She not meX
She pierces with unernng vision to the very core of their
JinnTL? *"**'?' "' ^ "*'"« *»»« peculiarly subtle rela-
tions between character and ciroumstauce. Her primary
object IS to excite our sympathy with the most ordinary
aspects of human life, with the people that one may meet any
day in the fields, the workshops, and the homes of England
Her most vivid creations are not exceptional beings, not men
or women preeminently conspicuous for sublime heroism ot
character or magnificent mental endowments, but work-a-day
" Not too fine or f;ood
For hnmu nature's dnily food."
l^lJ. p.
i'5-.
ADAM BKDS.
IxzxT
IXXXT
WWdnes, with whioh tte .Lerv!!;H T'"*^ *'"" "^"""''o
Mem projected on the ^Jl "^t ^P^". '" ' ^^am Bede '
Idea that it i, entirely founded " ft»r?«'''«° "»« t" t^e
» anbetratiun is hardlv T™.** ^.'- ^'^^ ""'w » such
■-en variou. pubS ValTtX t:""' ""l *""'"' '"'-
character, in 'Adam Bede ' we- * *? ^T """ "'^ «'•«'
oopiea of living people but of I! , , °°'^ "^^ ^ti>'^
ite author. To some extent t^L ?!? "'"""'^ '°"°««"«d *ith
the other hand, there is »i^,V ■°«"'t«''ertible. But, on
1-ving in theiXtn^rn Utd oTL°' ^^'"'*'''°- -^^^^^^
occurrences, till the whole h«h. ^"'^ Personages and
to lead som; person, IZ fir™ ^'^"'!. "" ^"""'^ ^g^^Eher as
« absolutely identi^^t/™**"!?"''"" that Binah Morris
byshire Methodist. Such L^. Elizabeth Evans, the Der-
cile the conflicting stai*^ ^C i"" 7° "^'^ ^"'P ^^ 'o^"-
novelist and the wnWf^„ P°°.''''"'^^ ""^o by the great
'8eU> Bede. the Me ho^y'/^s ^rJf 't 'T'" ^ ''^^^^^
O^'tsir ""^"' "^^ '^'^e^^ot-l^ SSiJI;
^0 of EUaston, not far Lfl^KT'""'' ''^'"f. " th^
Tl»« village is so little "temi tW^.""i!.'° Staffordshire,
see the sign-board of the "D^lS,"' '*'« ^^^cUer may still
^lok hall, only with windows no '„ ^™'''" ^"^ ^'> "xi
Wilham, and Robert EvanTrth" f ?f ' "?P»t«bed. Samuel,
born in this place, and lL«n m •"" °* '^^ °°^«"«t) ''ere
father before them. SamudT, J!' '"'T«'"«". as their
^.st, and was rather laughed at bvhi^"? " ^'«^°"'' ^etho-
for he says, »My elder brothel' J^'^^i" """''•''l"^""'''
they entertained High Churoh^ ■ • , *"^ *" ^^ "ei
what great blunders I made in T"".;-'- "^^'^ "^^^ '^^
I had ™or« zeal than knowtedg T'^^ .t"" P™^"' *>>-'
respects, he is the prototyw of s.*>. •"' "" '" °*^«'
«"^t Evans, one o? the'^m^ LS5 ^ thTo^Jly
IXXZTI
OIORQB BLIOT.
Much U. been written about this Elizabeth Eran. (the
•unt of Oeorge Eliot, «lre«iy .poken oQ: indeed, her life
•uoh imperfect fragment, of it as hare been committed to
F&K^ 1^ " ^" '""'"^ "^ °' "--oiderable interest,
hir f^h 71! •"" t' ^'"'~''* '° I*i«"t«nAire. and left
her fathert house when little more than fourteen year. old.
^nUrf ""•• ^'^'^"*' i" 1'97, after which she had
entirely done with the pleasures of the world and all her old
compjmion.. "I saw it my duty," she says, "to We off
all my .uperflmtie. of dress, hence I pulled off all my
bunches, cut off my curls, left off my lace, and in this I found
an unspeakable pleasure. I saw I could niake a better use
^J» Ll°? """'y "'*'' *° ^°"<"' *•»« fashion, of a rain
Zl; . ^^'\t!^ • •^""^"' y""* 8"1. attired Ta
Quaker dress and bonnet, she used to walk across those bleak
Derbyshue hils, looking so strangely mournful in their tree-
less nudity, with their bare stone fences gray against a grayer
sky. Here she trudged from village to Tillage, gathering the
poor about her, and pouring forth words of such earnest con-
viction that, as she says, " Many were brought to the Lord "
The points of resemblance between her career and that of
Dinah Moms cannot fail to strike the reader, even their
phraseology being often singularly alike, as when Mrs. Evans
writes in the short account of what she calls her "unprofitable
life : I saw it my duty to be wholly devoted to God, and
to be set apart for the Master's use;" whUe Dinah says:
'My life IS too short, and God's work is too great for me to
think of making a home for myself in this world." It must
be borne in mind, however, that these similarities of expres-
sion are natural enough when one considers that Dinah is a
type of the same old-fashioned kind of Methodism to which
.Mrs. Evans belonged. What is perhaps stranger is, that the
Rcmnnt given by George Eliot of her various meetings with
her aunt. Mrs Elizabeth Evans, should differ considerably
from what the latter herself remembered or has stated about
tnem. Shortly after the appearance of 'Adam Bede,' atten-
dfe^..
ADAH BEOS.
in Jinnotg of
f^nnJ^^' ^"ZABETH EVANS.
(mOWW TO THB WORrn .. „ ^
TO HOURS,
.». « '"■ '■"^ O' CHBI8T •
'"■ """ " T" lO«D. MAY »TH iZI'
faend Mis, Hennell on JhT 7th of lf°^'"'*''« terms to her
I'ke, while the subject is nVidhrn ^'*'' ""»= "r»l>ould
"ore exactly than I have Im ilf ?"" "'"» "">' ^ tell yo„
aunt, Elizabeth Evans. MyfaH,, ^°'"''^'^' I k-ew of „'
"•okshire all my life with him r* ^°" '""''• "^'d » Wm^
-hire first, and then Derb™£^' t"''^ ^"'^'y ^t Stafforf.
married my mother TC^"h°Lf''^''V'''« before he
tween my father's family ZViH^ -^l^' intercourse be-
«h re, and our famil^ _^ew S far P^'^^-^"" and Staffed-
oluldish feeling) stran™ 2Z I '*"'*'"■ "^"^ ot (to my
my father's fafi.ffnrvecottv '/"""' ""' ■""""" ^™m
own, as a little child, with Ty tth° T " ^""""y "^ my
maS.SVwrnfrsroVtheT-'^^' ""^ -*«' -«
journey into I)erbyshi« i„ ^Lh'vr''' " ""^ ^^*«" ^^ a
Samuel, who were very ^Z. and iiveH""* 7 """'« «"d «"nt
W^ksworth. he found^ ^ 'a^^f tl Z^Z^^l^^-
.&s.wst' 'mmm^mrimmm^mmmESEMm
Miarocorr rbouition tkt oun
(AN«I cind ISO TEST CHART No. 2)
jL
/APPLIED IMHGE Inc
1653 East Main Street
RochMtar, N«« York 14609 USA
(716) 463 -03D0-Phona
(716) 266-5989 -Fox
Izzxviii
QKOBGE ELIOT.
health after a serious illness, and, to do her bodily good, he
persuaded her to return with him, telling her that / should be
very, rery happy to have her with me for a few weeks. I was
then strongly under the influence of evangelical belief, and
earnestly endeavoring to shape this anomalous English-
Christian life of ours into some consistency with the spirit
and simple verbal tenor of the New Testament. I was de-
lighted to see my aunt. Although I had only heard her
spoken of as a strange person, given to a fanatical vehemence
of exhortation in private as well as public, I believed that I
should find sympathy between us. She was then an old
woman — above sixty — and, I believe, had for a good many
years given up preaching. A tiny little woman, with bright,
small dark eyes, and hair that had been black, I imagine, but
was now gray — a pretty woman in her youth, but of a totally
different physical type from Dinah. The difference — as you
will believe — was not simply physical; no difference is. She
was a woman of strong natural excitability, » jioh I know,
from the description I have heard my father and half-sister
give, prevented her from the exercise of discretion under the
promptings of her zeal. But this vehemence was now sub-
dued by age and sickness ; she was very gentle and quiet in
her manners, very loving, and (what she must have been from
the very first) a truly religious soul, in whom the love of God
and love of man were fused together. There was nothing
rightlj distinctive in her religious conversation. I had had
much intercourse with pious dissenters before ; the only fresh-
ness I found in her talk came from the fact that she had been
the greater part of her life a Wesleyan, and though the left t?ie
society when women were no longer allowed to preach, and
joined the New Wegleyans, she retained the character of
thought that belongs to the genuine old Wesleyan. I had
never talked with a Wesleyan before, and we used to have
little debates about predestination, for I was then a strong
Calvinist. Here her superiority came out, and I remember
now, with loving admiration, one thing which at the time
I disapproved; it was not strictly a consequence of her
Arminian belief, and at first sight might seem opposed to
it, yet it came from the spirit of love which clings to the
ADAH BEDE.
Izxxiz
who from the action of trouble upon him, hS^e^to sS
tapphng, though otherwise not culpable .luWhS-^The
good man's in heaven for aU thal^' said my uncle ' ofv^*
»a]A «« ?^; ^u^ I "meml*r in our lonely sittings and
seen in /LT/! t l^ •'^'^ ""'* '*» '^<'«"» "/ thmw
seen t» Me j,i<„,. in he^ ^^^^^^ ^j / «^
z:^: L°d7;';'^ 'j^t^'^ ' ^ ""'^ ---•-^ h z/a"i
manner, and the deep feeling I had under the recital Of fh.
sTe tt "" "°''"^' ' •""^^«' " *°1<J -" "S; buftha
TheTn^-/ .T""""' '^*"« 8''!' """""'"d of chUd-murder
remember distinctly, as matter iTo'uld write down "of ^
'Dinrh°''wT-'"^^y'°^^^- ^- -e howst s~J
D nah ; but it is not possible you should see J T l^w
entirely her individuality differed from • Dinahl" How curl
" GEORGE ELIOT.
ou» it seems to me that people should think ' Dinah's ' sennon,
prayers, and speeches were copied, when they were written
with hot tears as they surged up in my own mind 1
"As to my indebtedness to facts of local and personal history ^
of a small kind connected with Staffordshire and Derbyshire
you may imagine of what kind that is, when I tell you that I
never remained in either of those counties more than a few
days together, and of only two such visits have I more
than a shadowy, interrupted recollection. The details which
I know as facts, and have made use of for my picture,
were gathered from such imperfect allusion and narrative
as I heard from my father in his occasional talk about old
times.
"As to my aunt's children or grandchildren saying, If they
did say, that 'Dinah' is a good portrait of my aunt, that is
simply the vague, easily satisfied notion imperfectly instructed
people always have of portraits. It is not surprising that
simple men and women, without pretension to enlightened
discrimination, should think a generic resemblance consti-
tutes a portrait, when we see the great public, so accustomed
to be delighted with mis-representations of life and character
which they accept as representations, that they are scandalized
when art makes a nearer approach to truth.
"Perhaps I am doing a superfluous thing in writing all
this to you, but I am prompted to do it by the feeling that in
future years 'Adam Bede,' and all that concerns it, may have
become a dim portion of the past, and that I may not be able
to recall so much of the truth as I have now told ycu."
Nothing could prove more conclusively how powerful was
the impression which ' Adam Bede ' created than this con-
troversy concerning the amount of truth which its characters
contained. But, as hinted before, it seems very likely that
some of the doings and sayings of the fictitious personages
should have been attributed, almost unconsciously, to the real
people whom they resembled. How quick is the popular
imagination in effecting these transformations came only quite
recently under my notice, when some English travellers, while
visiting Chftteau d'lf, were taken by the guide in perfect good
faith to see the actual dungeon where Xonte Cristo was im-
•ADAM BEDE.
xei
nn
wards erroneously ascriC X, M 3^'^°P« ^^ been after-
account recently puwS Tn fh?' ^'''"*='*'' ^^''"'■- «"' an
who had long'LSo.n the E^nsesTlt^'^"'' "^^-^
irreconcUable with such a a,mn„.v ^"^'">'th, seems
writer it would apnea" that K^" ^"'^^'^'^8 to this
Wirksworth, of wS Veol^Elt". \""'' *° '^^^ '"'°* »'
quoted, there was one Xfof whioTfo'"™ '*' ''"" ^"'"
■I'lus visit, which she naid iZ 7 ■ ,, "ei^t'on is made,
occurred in 1842, when^she rel "?""' *^'- ^""""^l ^vans,
Wirksworta. The aun^ «nH '^'"ained a week at his house in
each other every^ fo'seZ^ 1"' '" the habit of seeing
usually met at tL hous^orol t .?" ** '^^ *^«- They
Mrs. Elizabeth ErantCdinX!,?^' -uarried daughters of
by themselves in the parlor ^Tr"^'"*''''''' ''''"« ""i-«
says the writer of the wticle «.„! I '^"'** conversations,"
family, and one day "ne o^ th«T uT' """"'"y '" '^e
can't think what thee Z Marv AnH ''" '^'^' ''*°'''«'> I
so much.' To which Mrs Evan« , ^^ «^°* *° *alk about
don't know what she wante h?. T''"^"' '^^"' "^^ dear, I
about my life and my r^irio;, ' ^'' "" *° *«" ber ku
down in a little b^k. T^VrnT""!' "f ''« P"'^ i* »"
for."' After her departurrMrs Pv/ • ^'"* '^^ "^"^^ *'
said to her daughter, "Oh dear M * '? '^^"^^ *» bave
did not mean her to take awtv 7^°° ^^ «°* °°« tbing I
first sermoni preached S Stonlr^e'*^ f" ""*«« "* ">«
same authority, Marian Evanslfok n^f , ^""o^ding to the
said in her hearing: no maLU '^*'y*'°8 people
went into the note-book, X^seeme".''"' '''"'^^«' <^°"" i'
and these notes she is s^d to\r * ^^"°"* "^ ^^"^ band;
before going to bed. yetthi^K^K? ''^-^'bed eveiy night
character, and tCfriends tt tnlT '°™'«° *° ^'^ ^^°^^
youth and later life never reme^SHeeiLT' '°'""^*«'^ ""^
a practice. Be that as it mav thn^f u^ ^^ '■^'°''' *° such
novelist very freely ,^edZ; !fth„ ^ °° '^°°''* '^'^t 'be
I
.tl
*'"' GEORGE EUOT.
trayed, as they happened to be both dead. Bartie Massey
the village cynio, had been the schoolmaster of her father'
Bobert Evans. How accurately the latter, together with all
his surroundings, was described is shown by the following
anecdote. On its first appearance 'Adam Bede' was read
aloud to an old man, an intimate associate of Robert Evans in
his Staffordshire days. This man knew nothing concerning
either author or subject beft ehand, and his astonishment was
boundless on recognizing so many friends and incidents of his
own youth portrayed with unerring fidelity. He sat up half
the night listening to the story in breathless excitement, now
and then slapping his knee as he exclaimed, "That 's Robert,
that 's Bobert to the life."
Although Wirksworth is not the locality described in 'Adam
Bede, it contains features recalling that quaint little market-
town where over the door of one of the old-fashioned houses
may be read the name made illustrious by the inimitable Mrs.
Poyser In the neighborhood, too, are " Arkwright's mUls
there a ^ Cromford," casually alluded to by Adam Bede : and
should tiie tourist happen to enter one of the cottages of gray
stone, with blue-washed door and window-frames, he may
still alight on specimens of Methodism, as devout as Seth
Bede, eloquently expounding the latest political event by some
prophecy of Daniel or -zekiel. In short, one breathes the
atmosphere m which such characters as Dinah and Seth
«!tuaUy lived and had their being. This uncompromising
Realism, so far from detracting, only enhances the genius of
this powerful novel. A thousand writers might have got hold
of these Identical materials: a George Eliot alone could have
cast these materials into the mould of 'Adam Bede' Let
any one glance at the account of their religious experiences,
as given by Elizabeth or Samuel Evans, and he will realize
all the more strongly how great was the genius of her
who transfused these rambling, common-place effusions into
such an artistic whole. I have entered so minutely into this
question of the 1 keness between the actual characters and
those m the novel purely on account of the biographical inter-
est attaching to it. In judging of ' Adam Bede ' as a .vork of
art these facts possess next to no importance. If we could
wmrmmuxmMJ ..^^dL^^^i^
ADAM BEDE.
trace the characters in an
human beings actually conne^t^l,>lf^'''''P*"«''' Pl^JS to
».der such a disoovefy imm^X^r^ "« should con-
li8ht on his own life. tWh' t w^^ull ^5 ' 1, ''"""^^ """^
estamate of the drama it.eff ^^'^^^ '^«<" <»» eritioal
'AdLTde^rncirnSS^^- *^« ="— in
ttatl,ttle„eed be added hewJS'Sf P*°P^tl'«y ^-emble,
the youthful preacher, whoVe «ln ""•. ^""^ Morris J
almost involuntary m;nSatati.1^^^"'"'''J'' *"" '^^ "'''"'J.
soul; whose spring of We' s "A" 7"^' °^ » •^'"''ifu
the narrow limits of private LiL! '"'°"fa''t that it overflows
toiling, suiTering men'andw^ttK "Tr""''"'^- °f
and sympathy — was a nZ ^ '*^ '^^^'th of pity, hone
Some writer has ^uLll'"'^'""' '" *»»« world of ^ficZ
sweet Derbyshire Kodistan'drhf"" f,"^°«y between the
fessions form a very cnrionl ^h? . the gentle pietist whose con-
thetwocharacters^arerdiSaXr''''"*'^"'"^^
■nan heroine is a dreamy pS ,„f """P""""- The Ger-
much but doing litUe, whe^ tCTT""''^ nature, feeling
'nquire too curiously ^Te tl^^'"^ P"'"'^"^ -^o's no?
""ojed by the spi/t ^f its teXr" °' ^."^ ^'^'''' but
participating in the lives of ^?^^^k ^^ "'»•" '"'timely,
and her acts of charity On?J a i" ^ ^'L ""^'"K words
described just such a woman L th^r ''°"" °' """^^ have
centred in an impersS'de^ ^s '^^""^ ^^""^ ''««t is
object of love; 4erea^ risw/ '° ,^y individual
existence rooted in some perso^^affeStiT' '^''•^'' ^"^ ^'
for parent or lover, child or husband Th ' ^f"°°' '''**'^«'
romantically interesting than Hp,/ J''" .""^kes Dinah less
fattenlike, self-involved crla^urewu^ t""*"' ^''^ beautiful,
contrasted. Georpe Eliotn«!! / ""^"^ "''« " ''° bappiW
this of Hetty, hidf« a lardTiltrerti'""/ ^^'^'
dimpling beauty of hers xllin J^l l"^ "'"'"' ">^* soft
would have depicted ju"' suth a H^.. \?i"* ""'^ "^ ''""^n
charms of this young rirf^fe drawn^- "^ ^^'l' ^^« P^^^^al
xdv
OEORGE ELIOT.
F
J,
R ,
li
a cherry wi a hard stone inside it." George Eliot is nove»
dazzled or led away by her own bewitching creation as a man
would have been There is a certain pitUessness in her
analysis of Hetty's shallow, frivolous little soul, almost as if
she were saying- See here, what stuff this beauty wh'jh you
adore IS made of in reality! To quote her own subtle, far.
reaching interpretation of beauty: "Hetty's face had «
language that transcended her feelings. There are faces which
nature charges with a meaning and pathos not belonging to
the simple human soul that flutters beneath them, but speak-
ing the joys and sorrows of foregone generations ; eyes that
tell of deep love which doubtless has been and is somewhere
but not paired with these eyes, perhaps paired with pale eyes
tiiat can say nothing, just as a national language may be
instinct with poetry unfelt by the lips that use it"
The sensation created by 'Adam Bede ' was shown in other
ways besides the claim of some to have discovered the original
characters of this striking novel. The curiosity of the public
was naturally much exercised as to who the unknown author
could possibly be, who had so suddenly leaped into fame
And now there comes on the scene an individual who does not
claim to be the living model of one of the characters por-
trayed, but to be the author of the book himself. And Uie
name of this person was Liggins!
While the 'Scenes of Clerical Life' were yet appearing in
Mackwood's Magazine the inhabitants of Nuneaton and its
neighborhood were considerably perplexed and excited to find
well-known places and persons touched off to the life. In
Ainos Barton they recognized the incumbent of Coton Church
in Mr. Pilgrim a medical ma" familiar to every child in the
town, and indeed in every one of the characters an equally
unmistakable portrait. Clearly no one but a fellow-townsman
could have hit off these wonderful likenesses. Literary talent
not being too abundant, their choice of an author was limited
The only man who by any stretch of imagination seemed to
have the making of a man of letters in him was this abo-e-
mentioned Liggins. To have studied at Cambridge, gallantly
run through a fortune, and be in very needy circumstances
were exactly the qualifications to be expected in a man of
ADAM BEDE.
XCV
paper. At first the reputed IZT'^'^ '" "^ ^«'« °^ Man
peachment, but on the an™l .^'""^y ^^"'^^ tl»e im-
cun.bed to^e terpUtlr^^rftLltT '"'"'' '" "-
a successful author, and to have a ...k ■ . ''""'*' I*'''«8 "
enthusiastic Udy^frers rr^.n 7''°" "^'o" * «>' bj
eye8hewasasadlyu^rea'itSl^*"°''-'°'^°«'°«°. '" '''"ose
J~»l clergyman even wp'oteto ^"7/'" "f ;™"'"'''''- ^
be the real surname of " Geor^ Eliot^TThS '''««'"* *°
course, denying the statement anH iwi '*"*"■ '^'■°'«. "f
produce some specimen hkwl'"*'."* *''" P"'*'"^" '"
Bede.' But the confident 'f ^L"^* '" "*" ^'^'« "^ '^^am
hero Liggins was not to Tso ea^w fhT'°" .P"""" '" '^'"
ministers from Coveutrv Jl! ^ *''*°- T'^" dissentine
upon the "great auIhoPaXr; '° ^f ""orough to calf
' Adam Bede.' LigS e.lf thl° 'i^" """^ •^''^ '^ri'"
mitting that he didf but wlen th" "^T^'T' '"^"''^^y ^d-
"Liggins, tell us, dil you write <aL p'^ ^'^ P°'°* "ank,
I did n't, the deril ^dr'^^dthaf w ^?''\^" *■" ^^-l' "«
of him. Another cWym^w^Ln^ , ' **"'^ 'i'"^'^ ««' °"'
eveor one that he was SvJ^ ?? '' '"'P*'"^' ^^u^i^g
«,he had seen thrMrof uC bI^^?'- •^,'"S *!>« author!
this day there lives in the Isle of^ "'■'"' ^''°<'»- To
gentleman who has ne4r lost l^^-f -"'^ ^'""*"" "^^
George Eliot is mentioled, ^av /rhi^: ^'T'!, "■"'' "'"«''
tliat there is more in the nlm« f). ^" ^^^' '"Plying
superficial observer. But a heavv^-^l*'' *^* '^^ "^ tbf
pseudcvauthor at last, for when his fal"*"'\'*''" *« P°°'
were fuUy manifest he felT Tnto 1 ''1'""''' *" *»^°''
ending his days in the woAhous^. "'**' "*«'*"* ''"'* P"^^^^.
Geor^: SS SZraKnd "'^"^^ l'^ ''-'-- "^
the publication of 'ThTMOl ™ .h°T' ''''''='' °'='="™d °u
that, Mr. Blackwood whf had , on.' °!!- ■ ^^°''^^ ^f°^«
tnowtheauthorof the ^Scenes J n^ cntert^ned the wish to
Bede,' was invited by Lewes t/ ^''^'^- '^^ °^ '^'^
was present at the dinger <-?w° k. "^ *' '^*- ^^ ""e
and Mr. BlackwS S i^^"?,,^^^^^^ /r. ^-e=. Marian,
"^BOii. xie dinner was an extremely
m
wri
OEOKOG EUOT.
iBhed publisher shook hands with his contributor.
1
CHAPTEK IX,
THX MILL ON THE PLOSS.
He recognized incidents, touches, a savinir here or rt.!f'
3»st the things that no one outside his o7n home Im b^Ly'
chance have come upon. But George Eliot's brother kept
t™lt!fw^ "'"'^'^ ^'^^ "''^^ Ws own breast He
trembled lest any one else should discover the aeoT^LJ^l
the outoryof neighbors who might not !Sways feel t^t^h!
author had represented them in .^lors sntZlytt^n^
men'TheMUl on the Floss' appeared, however the veil
was lifted, and people heard that George Eliot h^once Cn
a Miss Marian Evans, whc came from the neighboTh^of
Nuneaton in Warwickshire. To her brother IsalcTne th?s
was no news as he had detected his sister in trfim of the
'Scenes.' The child-life of Tom and Maggie TuUiv" wL in
hope to describe the early history of George Eliot as s^e hlr'
self has done in 'The Mill on the Floss' How many fov.
calltoL h'r '^'^PPf" "«!-" day^ --t hive ^L'Te
called to her brother -those days when little Mary Ann had
sat poring over Daniel Defoe's 'History of thrD^ril' f
sought refuge in the attic at Griff HouseTaSL ^qS wi^
m
m^
THK MILL ON THE FLOSS.
lovii
Snth?wJ^?::^„^?««'«\'r'ite retreat on a wet day,
ill-humor,, and Xd^'„^^ 2 ' •"«" »'«' ^™'t,d out all hf
worm^ate; shelvl^^^a^d Z^'^' "[r"?''" ^~" "•'' »»>«
*eb.i andhereshek^nta VfS^h ., u' {'""°<»»<'d W'^- Job-
h.rmi.fortunea/ ffiL ttetrnt'1 "'',•' P'">''»""1 ' -all
which once .tared wfi TrJundl^t oft" 'T ^f^^" ''°»'
of cheeks, but wa. no^ZtiXZ^A^V^^ '^' "^'^'''
vicarious suffering. Three nal.T- • ^ * '""^ career of
memorated as m^t criseTin ^1.^^°."'*° """ *««"* «"""-
•truggle, that luxu^ o" ven^e^^'^h .""«J'«"» "^ «arthly
her by the picture of Jae?dfZ^ havng been suggested to
Again, at some eelds^d.stlncrf ^ Sisera in the old Bible."
1^ been a « Bound P^V'c^X/^vn^?^^ ^°°"' '^«"
feet round, framed in ^th w^ltts Ld ^f' l''^-""^"' P«'-
water was only to be seen whir ^' "®'^"' «° '•>«' 'he
Thi8wasafavoritere!ortofT.» ^^"x/°' '''°''' *" *!"' brink,
and his sister when thev w/nH ">"'* *^"^ *°°' "^ '^'«' °f T°m
thought it probabTeSCsm'Ssh'f Y^ "" "^^«'«
hook and large ones to Tom's " The « p ^ ^°°"' *" ^"
where Maggie loved to walk in Tnn '^\^0P»," too,
were in their 8lorv»ar^ It m June, when the "dog-roses
of her shiftingTnTer We w«7n th'e "'' *''™"*' """"^ '"--
time a l.Wed\aunVo7Cuto™L\rst"""''"' "•'■'' °°«
the^"^£Trren"X~^ ^" ^^^ -"on
George Eliot's earTy home thf f "^ "" ''°°°*'"«<1 "i'l'
mainly laid in Lin olnsMre' St T""^ -^l *'*' "o^"' «
™ofs and broad warehous""gables"T'thf "^ ''•'■«'"«"^
GainsborougK The Flo«f. ,;!,,' .'*'"« ancient town of
ia each caaf the spr ngSe r^sh'fnl uoTh "'^ *'* ^"''*' ^-^
nfic wave and flooding tKdi? V "^" ""'' '^ t«r-
the Eagre, a name nof a lit^^l^°'.'°J^*' ™"''<^. i= known as
•tKu onTe F OSS' /a tit e S*"': "/.*''* *'''"8 itself,
the suggestion of Mr Blickwoid t '^ ^ ''^ *^'' """'°' »'
Maggie') is the most Z^iZ{^f V^^'''""'^ *" 'Sister
The great Floss, Cying w °i ^'°'«'' E"°*'« ""-els.
sea, gives a unit^ ofTte own 1 Z»"'" P^'""« to the
tl^e roar . watet. the^X^^gtator^J^^^tZ-pLj
xoviii
OEOHOK EUOT.
h',
on it. banL The ohni^ VS"*"* '"""J' «'°"P ""rtuwd
which h-veVttthr; JS '*ti^' ""\"'« '"d'"-' o'
fate, the FIosb .eems to riae in .Sthy and1ub»?r 'ff*'"
in m mighty waters to unite them C C^ ."^n „ *" k''"""
death h, d,;:r/;ria^sreTn,sroSS rz'
ims may be accounted for bv thn ta„i- ti. \ ""'" °* ■»•'«>•
novelist became acquainJr^L'Setddldirof' *'"
relative who had accidentally fall«. into ^^ *'"'"
dent which sunk deeply into h^erliVtll ^iT" '' '^ '""-
*ate plays a very conspicuous uart in thi. 1. ■
George Eliot's novels. But it is n'^th Flt^^rtie T^"'
It 18 not a power that affects human exkten™ / ^l^^''
it rather lies at the rnnf «f -t ««8tenoe from without :
This action of eha^aoternr"'"' 1""° *" '"™88>'' <>* '««
on character is areterrL""°""*°°f *""* °^ circumstance
We conVtontly see J^t. ""^ «»<'/ with George Eliot.
moulding the lives of Ihr J"""""'*"."'""' ""^'^^'"8 »-d
hardly, if ever therefL^ u'° her stories. She has
instead c* vLldint m if '"^ " ^^'° °' ''''"''°«' f" t^es^
highest kind S Tit^"^-"""^- S*" "*"""» "f'" the
l~CLsK°' ''• --^ --- S'S
m^ m-
THE MILL ON THE FL0S8. ^
to another, i. .hS^™'^ .£ "L !l""'^ 'T '""' «'"'»•
port. In Maggie', caae thU e^ 1 TpZ"," '\^ P"' ""t of
of her nature; from the acuZ'^'Tl "'.» ^«'J' ^"Inesg
the many^idednew of life attrl^L k . 'magmation which
.ite air^ctions. Tom, on tie olr^ T '" "'^ """" °PP<>
practical understanding entillv „ ^'"'' "'"^ >>« "arW
in hand, swerve, neithfi to ^ ZX^t' "^ ''"' ""«"«'-
Mid to resemble a horse with blink' -^ "T'"'*' ^^ ""y 1«
the road straight ahead. Magg" w^th 'J? .""" ^ ■"""• ""'^
nesses and startling inconsisffn^i.T • II ''^ P*'P*"« ^^^ak.
George Eliot's women. In fi^"!;^!' " '5" """'t adorable of
onild more delicious than the < mu' ""1 1!'"'"° *>>««' " "o
heart and dreamy wa^ her r«l T^ *'''' ''«' Joking
her fine .nscepti^iUt^'i, fitt JeTo/? *"' ""'» ™«-''
her singularly fresh and X Sre Th ""P"' " '" " '°«»
vades every phase of her life ^„ h!", ^\!!^o 'harm per-
w far modify WordsworthW J °"* "" "'''". if I Tav
".other of the womw ""'"' ""^'"8, is eminently the
aoe^^'a ETnrLiS'sr '^^^^'^'-^ - «^«
at the sordid narrowness of W If; ffrr"°' ''^'P ™'*"'"8
tor a wider field wherein to dev^T.^}. '•P?'"""*'^^^ ""'^ing
this State of yearning and wild unLf">, ""^^ ^^"^*'«- ^^
of Thomas 4 Kempfs formTa cr-.i!^ \"'^"'^'''''*1 '«ading
about a spiritual TwakenTng in which Ph '^ '^ ''""^'"^
hrst time, becomes a living truth Tnh '^''""lanity, for tha
Maggie now throws all the ardor n A ' ^'"''""' "" '^' '»-
cation and "elf^onquest. She seeks hrv*^"' '°'° ™-»»-
in abnegation of all personal h!,? /• '''»''«'t satisfaction
others. In her youn^ ascet Im l""' ,-° """'^ "^^^ot'on *»
which she is ignoranf stifln"! .'^''T'^''^' » '^"'W of
cent that, eemfoppold'rhlrerfa'ir'^^' ''"''^^' "-
than wSSslTmaC 't^ ^^J^^^ ^^ ^^t'-^
touched instrument to theCtv^/.K"' '^"'^ "ke a finely
hough she doubts whether th«™ ^' """'^ ^«»""J h«^ and
« the indulgence of t^;"^';^,":^ -' -- be a sinfulness
J-ym..„t, yet the summer flowers
m
O OEOHOE EUOT.
and the summer sunshine put her scruples to flight. And
then, when, through the intervention of Philip Wakem, the
enchantments of romance and poetry are* brought within her
reach, the glory of the world again lays hold of her imagina-
tion, and a fresh conflict is begun in her soul. Thus she drifts
from one state into another most opposed to it, and to an out-
side observer, such as Tom, her abrupt transitions are a sign
that she is utterly wanting in moral stamina.
Not only Tom, but many eminent critics, who have descanted
with fond partiality on Maggie's early life, deem to be shocked
by that pit of her story in which she allowj herself to fall
passionately in love with such an ordinary specimen of man-
hood as Stephen Guest. The author has even been accused
of violating the truth of Nature, inasmuch as such a high-
minded woman as Maggie could never have inclined to so
vulgar, so commonplace a man as Her lover. Others, while
not questioning the truth of the character, find fault with the
poor heroine herself, whom they pronounce an ineffective
nature revealing its innate unsoundness by the crowning error
of an abject passion for so poor a creature as the dandy of
St. Oggs. This contention only proves the singular vitality
of the character itself, and nothing is more psychologically
true in George Eliot's studies of character than this love of
the high-souled heioine for a man who has no corresponding
fineness of fibre in his nature, his attraction lying entirely
in the magnetism of mutual passion. This vitality places
Maggie TuUiver by the side of the Juliets, the Mignons, the
Consuelos, the Becky Sharps, and other airy inheritors of
immortality. It is curious that Mr. Swinburne, in view of
such a character as this, or, indeed, bearing in mind a Silas
Mamer, a Dolly Winthrop, a Tito, and other intrinsically
living reproductions of human nature, should describe George
Eliot's as intellectually constructed characters in contrast
to Charlotte Bronte's creations, the former, according to him,
being the result of intellect, the latter of genius. If ever
character came simply dropped out of the mould of Nature it
is that of Maggie. His assumption, that 'The Mill on the
Floss ' can in any sense have been suggested by, or partially
baaed upon, Mrs. Gaskell's story of 'The Moorland Cottage,'
- 't\vsf.
THE MILL ON THE 1X088. oi
»eems eqniUjr baseless. There is certainly the identity of
name m the heroines, and some resembUnoe of s tuS Z
regards portions of the story, but both the name and th^
situation are sufficiently common not to excite astonishment
at such a coinc deuce. Had George Eliot realltro^ of
this tale -a tale feebly executed at the best-Iehe Z^nld
obriouBly have altered the name so as not to make her olw
taon too patent to the world. As it is, she was not a I^
astonished and even indignant, on accik^ntalT s": ngTi
opinion stated m some review, and positivel/ deZd eve
having seen the story in question.
Indeed, when one knows how this story grew out of her
Z^'^P/r"""' ''"^ ■** «•■""«' portion" eTpeTiiSS ^e a
record of her own and her brother's childhood-how even
Mrs. Glegg ar,l Mrs. Pullet were only too faithfully done
from the aunts of real life, one need not go far afield to seek
he'mthtr- ""'V '"?""'' »«"-»y ^"^= oneTol, wM h
whi^hf " "' ^'' ^"'*'y '"*"'" '^y Confessions,' iito
which he ^urs an intimate part of his life under a th n d^
guise of fiction, a book invariably exciting a nuLue ki^d
of interest m the reader be he conscious or^not of the pres
ence of this autobiographical element Fielding's •AmeH^
Thackeray's .Pendennis,' Dickens's -David CoSeld ' ChL^
ktte Bronte's ' ViUette,' are cases in point. ' TeSon the"
Siot Werw'"?''^^"*'"™- MaggieTulliver^GeoS
Ehot heraelf but only one side, one portion, one phase of
George Eliot's many-sided, vastly complex nature^ It is
George Eliot's inner life in childhood and youth as it appeared
to her own consciousness. We recognize in i? her T.„? i
"?& '^^H .f "«^°^ ^ectionateneTsr her amb t on t
outlook beyond the present, her religious and moral preocc„
pations; even her genius is not so much omitted as left Tn
an undeveloped, rudimentary state. While hermare-b^ Lve
Stones, her thirst for knowledge, her spiritual wrrtHn™ and
the passionate response of her soul to high thinkin/lw!
music and the beautiful in all its forms, show thL t£ mat
mg of genius was there in germ. Much in the same manner
G»the was fond of partitioning his nature, and of S
only the weaker side to his fictitious representatives. ^S,„*
«tt
OEOBOE ELIOT.
t/'i
Z ?^« L./ ] K°^.*"°""*''""' °* P"^" ''^°^ he only
got the better of by his indomitable wUl, he usually endowed
ftese characters with his more impulsive, pliant self, a^ Z^
fested m Werther, in Tasso, in Edward of the 'ElecMye
Affinities^ In this sense also Maggie TuUiver resemblls
have t f ^ f^ '' ^"l P"'^'"'''^ ««"> "^""^ ■» «hTmS^
have been had there not been counterbalancing tendencies of
unusual force sufficient to hold in check all efratic impulses
contrary to the main direction of her life impulses
While tempted to dwell largely on Maggie Tulliver the
central figure of 'The Mill on the Floss,' it wouTdTveS
unfair to slur over the other admirably drawn oharacterlTf
this novel. Her brother Tom, alread/repeatedly alluded to
18 m every sense the counterpart of "Sister MagL "Hard
and narrow-minded he was from a boy, « partUularly cleir
and positive on one point, namely, that he would punish every-
body who deserved it: why, he wouldn't have minded beiig
punished himself, if he deserved it; but, then, he never rf^
«tZ"'i -.-T^^' "'"i^"" '^' key-note of a character who^
stern inflexibility, combined with much practical insight and
dogged persistence of effort, is at the same time dignified by
a high, If somewhat narrow, sense of famUy honor. Conven-
tional respectability, in fact, is Tom Tulliver's religion He
IS not in any sense bad, or mean, or sordid j he is only so cir-
cumscribed in his perspective faculties that he has no stand-
ard by which to measure thoughts or feelings that transcend
Jiis own very limited conception of life.
Both by his good and his bad qualities, by his excellences
and his negations, Tom Tulliver proves himself what he is —
a genuine sprig of the Dodsou family, a chip of the old block I
And the Dodson sisters are, in their way, among the most
amazingly living portraitures that George Eliot ever achieved
Keahsm in art can go no further in this direction. These
w-omen, if present in the flesh, would not be so distinctively
vivid as when behei: through the transfixing medium of
George Ehot;s genius. For here we have the personages, with
all their quamtnesses, their eccentricities, their odd, old-fash-
loned twists and ways -only observed by fragments in actiial
life - successfully brought to a focus for the delight and amuse-
THE MILL ON THE FLOSS. ^
ment of generations of readers. Them i» «„«,-
nothing exaggerated, in tl^esrhuiopTus C^s"^^ '"''
effect is not produced as is nfk.„^ ngures. The comio
of Dickens, V so- ^^"^^i^^ Zl^Vrrf"'.
speech, more in the spirit of oari^t^re T^f .'""'' °*
is by a strict adherence to the j^t mean of n J- "T""'^' "
scientious care not to overstep^h r protebilitls [L^ " "°°-
these matchless types of English p^^SifeA^d T
of all propoSo^L'^^^ m^^^e "Kw^ ''Z T
dictatorial ways, her small eco^oS hef^^lt^t l^*'
behtron isr^ions.-MrJStih: :irr/ -^r
to-do yeoman-farmer ImnTL ■' ^''^^^^^ °^ the well-
a single remark from iT^f P° ^'. .^""'^ "°' "«6' with
Butby-andby itapla^d St"" ^^^'"^ *° ""<="« ''^^'f-
purpose, for he iS hfm ^If « ! '^ ''""''^ *"»^" *•>«
f;- !H
GEOBOE ELIOT.
?'■
father died, and then when I'd wanted a home, I should ha'
gone elsewhere — as the choice was offered me.'
" Mi. Glegg paused from his porridge and looked up, not -
with any new amazement, but simply with that quiet, habitual
wonder with which we regard constant mysteries.
" ' Why, Mrs. G., what have I done now ? '
" ' Done now, Mr. Glegg ? done now ? , . . I 'm sorry for
you.'
" Kot seeing his way to any pertinent answer, Mr. Glegg
reverted to his porridge.
" ' There 's husbands in the world,' continued Mrs. Glegg,
after a pause, ' as 'nd have known how to do something differ-
ent to siding with everybody else against their own wives.
Perhaps I 'm wrong, and you can teach me better. But I 've
allays heard as it 's the husband's place to stand by the wife,
instead of rejoicing and triumphing when folks insult her.'
" ' Now what call have you to say that ? ' said Mr. Glegg,
rather warmly, for, though a kind man, he was not as meek as
Moses. ' When did I rejoice or triumph over you ? '
" ' There 's ways o' doing things worse than speaking oui
plain, Mr. Glegg. I 'd sooner you 'd tell me to my face as
you make light of me, than try to make as everybody 's in the
right but me, and come to your breakfast in the morning, as
I 've hardly slept an hour this night, and sulk at me as if I
was the dirt under your feet.'
'"Sulk at you?' said Mr. Glegg, in a tone of angry face-
tiousness. ' You 're like a tipsy man as thinks everybody 's
had too much but himself.'
" ' Don't lower yourself with using coarse language to me,
Mr. Glegg! It makes you look very small, though you can't
see yourself,' said Mrs. Glegg, in a tone of energetic com-
passion. 'A man in your place should set an example, and
talk more sensible.' "
After a good deal of sparring in the same tone, Mr. Glegg
at last bursts forth : " ' Did ever anybody hear the like i' this
parish? A woman with everything provided for her, and
allowed to keep her o' n money the same as if it was settled on
her, and with a gig new stuffed and lined at no end o' expense,
and provided for when I die beyond anything she could ex-
THE MOL OH THE FLOSS. OT
tapped the table with both his hands ) ^ •""■' '"'^
and folding it in an eioited manner ^^/s^tT/vf ^"J'^f^"'''
being provided for beyond what I could « /t\, ° "*?
tell you as I 'd a rieht to «™^f „ ^''P*"*' ^ "^8 l«a™ to
cried shame on by the cou^t^ fi ^' " ! ''"" " y°» '« °°t
it What I oan-tU: Z^Zoi'^ LZ ''"^''''''' "' "■*■ ^o'
for dinner. I shall 3e grue" » ^' °"^*' '''^* y°" """^
Equally well drawn in their wav tJinn»>, l^^
Ch^^ ""^ ^""^ '■ I'J'iliP Wakem, whose physio7mall
genero^, father of Maggie, and his sister Mrs \los! whosi
foUto r/n r' "^^f ^-o^^of appearances form a Writing
foil to the Dodson sisters. Indeed, 'The Mill on the mr,»»^
an rogues enoo-wiout lookin' i> books for 'em.»
The distinguishing feature of this novel, however lies nnf
OTi
OEOBOE ELIOT.
i^
if
CHAPTEE X.
SILAS MAKNBR.
'The Mill on the Floss,' which appeared in 1860, fully
established George EMot's popularity with the public. In the
same year she published anonymously, in Blaekwoo^t Maga-
zine, a short story called 'The Lifted Veil.' This tale is
curious as differing considerably from her general style, hav-
ing a certain mystical turn, which perhaps recommended it
more especially to the admiration of Bulwer Lytton; but,
indeed, it attracted general attention. In the meanwhile the
relations between author and publisher became more and more
friendly; the latter's critical acumen and sound judgment
being highly esteemed by beorge Eliot. " He judged well of
writing," she remarked, "because he had learned to judge well
of men and things, not merely through quickness of observa-
tion and insight, but with the illumination of a heart in the
right place."
This was the most productive period of George Eliot's life.
In three successive years she published 'Adam Bede,' 'The
Mill on the Floss,' and ' Silas Mamer,' the last story appearing
in lh61. When the amount of thought, observation, and wis-
dom concentrated in these novels is taken into consideration,
it must be admitted that her mental energ ■: was truly aston-
ishing. But it was the accumulated experience of her whole
past, the first abundant math borne by the spring-tide of life
which was garnered up in these three remarkable works.
Afterwards, when ahe came to write her next book, ' Bomola,'
she turned to entirely fresh fields of inspiration; indeed,
already at this date her mind was occupied with the idea of an
Italian novel of the time of Savonarola.
In the meanwhile she produced her most finished work. She
wrote ' Silas Mamer, the Weaver of Eaveloe.' I call ' Silas
Mamer' her most finished work, not only because of the sym-
metry with which each part is adjusted in relation to the
whole, nor because of the absence of those partly satirical,
partly moral reflections with which George Eliot usually ao-
SILAS MARKER.
erU
th^Z , '''r^=*">-i°* >>« "tories, but chiefly on «»ount of
the simple pathos of the oeutral motive into whiohaU the
different incidents and characters naturally converw How
stSdTnfh "'^Tl^ '""" '^'"'" "•" -'" oTr is^on!
struoted, and how matchless the resultl
.mall'^'-"* ''"•' *^* '*'^ °^ " ^"-"We weaver belonging to a
small dissenting community which assembled in Lantern
of I k'^r'T '" '"f ^^ »'^«*^ °f '^ manufacturing town
all tM^l h ""' '^^ " ^*'^' *"«'"^' ^"1 '^0 loo^ of !ru°r"n
biwSn " °K '^'"°'- ^°*^'"8 l""' ">« story of alone
bewildered man shut out from his kind, concentrlting every
^nH ft '^T"" T °°' - *■•« ''"-«Bg™3sing passion ffrlld
toln r. * '",'^'^'" disappearance of%he hoXTm its ac^us-"
tomed hiding-place, and in its stead the startling ap^aS of
a golden-haired little child, found one snow^wS Zht
ttsr^iirofSi't^^e^^^^^^^^
Sir r;itrhV?:uoren''""«^"« ^'» ^"*° ^^'"-
and the hand may be a little child's " naoKward,
is^p^drL°ir5ecVof^/;s^^^^^
f?^^;:he:^fiir?^^^^^^^
of them all, has been translated into Fren 'h, DutT L'd'^r
m r-remotrp:Hsh wir'"T'^ '-'' p-*- "fti w;
m a remote l-olish village, and not only of peasant lifn h„t J
the manners and habits of the landed proprfet^ thl T«" f^
arhsan, and the yeoman, in a communit7wCe lit? h':
have nndergoue but little modification sLe the Sm e Ig "
eviii
OEOROE ELIOT.
((
li'i
These picture*, though not elaborated with anything like the
nunute care of George Eliot's descriptions of English country
me, yet from their extreme simplicity produce a most power-
lul impression on the reader.
The story, in brief, is that of Jermola, the body servant of
a Polish nobleman in Volhynia, whom he has served with rare
devotion dunng the greater part of his life. Left almost a bee-
gar at his master's death, without a single human tie. all he can
get tor years of faithful service is a tumble^iowu, forsaken old
inn, where he manages to keep body and soul t ,gether in a
dismantled room that but partly shelters him from the inclem-
ency of the weather. Hopeless, aimless, loveless, he grows
old before his time, and the passing of the days affecto him
hardly more than it does a stone. But one evening, as he is
sitting in front of a scanty fire repeating the Lord's Prayer
the cry as of a little ehUd startles him from his devotion. Go-'
lug to look what can be the meaning of such unusual sounds he
soon discovers an infant in linen swaddling-clothes wailing
under an old oak-tree. He takes the foundling home, and
from that moment a new life enters the old man's breast He
M rejuvenated by twenty years. He i: kept in a constant
flutter of hope, fear, and activity. A kind-hearted woman,
called the Kozaozicha, tenders him her services, but he is so
jealous of any one but himself doing aught for the child, that
he checks her advances, and by hook or by crook obtains a
goat from an extortionate Jew, by the help of which he rears
the boy satisfactorily. Then, wishing to make a livelihood
for the child's sake, he inclines at first to the craft of the
weaver, but finally turns potter in his old age. Love sharpen-
ing his wits, he plieg quite a thriving trade in time, and the
beautiful boy brings him into more friendly relations with his
neighbors. But o) 9 day, when Eadionek, who has learned
Jermola's trade, is about twelve years old, the real parents
appear and claim him as their own. They had never dared to
acknowledge their marriage till the father, who had threat-
ened to ( sinherit his son in such an event, had departed this
life. Now, having nothing more to fear, they want to have
their child back, and to bring him up as befits their station in
life. Jermola suffers a deadly anguish at this separation;
SILAS MARNER. ^^
P^nt. in.i.tf„« on'l'r e^.wT.hJ'^R^^^^^ ««',""'
carried off to their house in tn.n ♦ T!'. '°''°'' " »' '"'
man, being only S^Kly aHcweH . 'T"'' """^ " K""""-
to time. The bov Dine« 111 ,**^ '^ •^*"»°'> f«>» «""e
enoe of his fo«te^fa?r, 'in ,!%'' ^°' *''*' ''"'" ^'"""ia^ P'es-
after som" ^a™ oS" hi /'*'' '"''^°°' "''' """* "*""''
Jermola's hu^ who hrs^^'e'^uX^r '"' '""'^^"'^ '"
secretly near the child he s afrTw Z ^^'^ '° °^^^^ ^ ^
entreaties of Badion k.td thf t^'orh'!^ "" ''\V''^°'"
tenanee, induce the old man T, flfL • 5 .u ""^ ""^'y «°"n-
where the two may esoaTunil ^ ' ?""«^'' ^o^^'^'
part of the oount^tol^e uTth;i ,/"^^ """"^ •^''"»»t
more But the harSshlp^and fetSes of t? '""* "'^ °'""'
much for the boy's enfeebled h.T>. ^ ' ^°"™*y ^'^ *°o
within sight of hlan dwellings h^ *'"* ^""^ "" """y """"^
which cute his young Me swT "t""""* ^"^ » f"^"
with anguish Zll IZlt^ *v °« -^"""l* ne^'y crazy
dren mocked by"X thf-CriXi:' "»T *'''' ''^"-
seemed to consist of nothing but tofs *°' '^'=*"''' '"'
Such is the bare outline of a «t^L „v.
the redemption of a hun^n soul tZ \T ""*'" '^"^ ""»* °f
by means of a little cMd Tsunr .°'''' ^f"^^'"^ isolation,
' Silas Mamer.' ^her noid«n^»^ 'u°''^'''y '•>« '^'"e « in
woman who initiates JermSlTnto th^ " f""' °' '""^ ^'^''^
agement, and the disclos^ of f h„ r^''*"'^' of baby man-
of years, wanting to wTt^li lud r^"'" ''"^^ <» '»?««
passages in the Englisr^r Bat l" "f' '"«^''' ?"«»«"
are, after all, natural enoTeh ,„f .^'"""Jof «3 of this kind
human feeling and actionTs'ltrd Slat'"' *',? """^^ "'
rer^f^^rirrtrreff-'^^^^^^
-ot^ne^er saw, and Jossi^?,-- e^ ll'Sot^.^
-vid and .ried ^r^^^^l::^^ ^^^S^
r
l'-:
"■ OEOKOE ELIOT.
.!nK 1 •. J league-long expanse of ancient forests whose
sombre solitudes encompass with a mysterious awe the HMU
prer^'"ti""«' f. "■""• «"' '''•"• foreirsto;' u !
?tT h . ?"l" '" "»«'" P"""™' '»><> latter far excels
t m he masterly handling of character and dialogue, in the
SSL^Cmof "' '•"'"«'"' "■^' ''-- •"' ^- '^^P-'-
Geor^'Fl/^'-'T"'' ^" """^ ^°""'' ^°' "'"""e realism.
wheelwr^ht: h« .'"'r'''^r • ?" ^""«"' •"" ''"'"he", htr
HI! • I ', !f **''°"' •'*^* '""^ »»■"« startling vitality the
unZrrr^^*?'',^"!:'' °^ '^"^' ">« "««"« distinct ve yet
unforced individuality, free from either exaggeration or oari
cature. How delicious is t^ie description oT^he p^ " ^«
advocate for compromising whatever differences of oninion
ofruor"'"*r?" r*""""' ■" *"•"«' "'^' "^''- *" - ^
" Yon v! »v7>. u^' ^' '''8°'»e"te by his favorite phrase -
•You re both right and you're both wrong, as I say » How
^wil L *i ^ '^^ * ''°'"°° ''"'"^'^•■> '° which one and all puff
away at their pipes, staring at the fire "as if a bet were
begin at last, how noh is the flavor of that talk, given with
an unerring precision that forthwith makes ^ f^uai^^
with the crass ignorance and shrewdness, the moth^wit imd
wpomitaon. so oddly jumbled together in the vilC^rmi^d
™ ^f T P*""'' "'"''' ^'- ^"^"y' i" speaking of
a person from another county which apparent y co^d not be
breed 0' sher'"*.: ^""° *'". oountry.'^Che brought a fi^
breed sheep with him, so there must be pastures there and
everyth, „,^onable» Yet the same ^ can put down
"S/.nr^""? ?™"^ ""^"P^y' "« '*■«■> he ^remarks"
There s allays two 'pinions; there's the 'pinion a man has
Therr>:«?'* ^'''' *' 'P'"°" """^^ ^^^^ have Th?^
StLAS MAKNER.
est
I>oIly Winthrop, the wife of fh- • n
make, one of the oomZV "t^^' .f"^ wheelwright who
•dmirable. She i, not ^t JL » ^''^<' i» no lew
type of human nature, but Lr^^i.S.r*"'!!" P*'*"" or
>• full of a freahnesa and unwl^ !h ''^'"''"'^"''■''y. a-d
oonoluaions at deBanoe A notebtl"!" '""<!'' '<"• '"^gone
appetite for work, ,o that, ria^^a hT'"''w'"' ' '»•"""«'"
b.t o' time to apa;, aoat dly" for w\ '^* '""' '^^ ''" "«
fthe moming'Zclook awmit .7 .\T «'" "P beW^e.
i". time to go abouTth? v^t^'^v„f '^T^^'^' -^ore
ergy .he ia not ahrewiah, but aSm J^v/"'' "" *''" «■"
requeat in aick-rooma or whe™v«^K* * ''°""'"' '° """h
Kood-looking. too, and of aToZ^l? " ''°""*- ^he ia
tiently tolerant ot her huaband". ? '""P"'' ^"'"^ P*"
'men would be ao,' ^d^e^„Vth« '; °°°"''' <f t^"'
light of animala whom it pS hL '"?" "' ' '" 'I'"
some like bull, or turkey^,^^. » "'"'''*" *° »»'«' '"uble-
anot^:rTtr£^mt;:e'/tll«t' '"" '"' ^« '^^^^
the eountry, givea a vi "d Lrof~l'r,r;''" ^"^ °'
her own dim, aemi-pagan but tW,»^^ "^ ^'^*' " '«" «»
feelinga, prompting hTalwayat^aZJ^ reverential religioua
plural, aa when ahf aaya to Kr-^ °^ the Divinity in the
the right quarter, and^^^^ ™,;p to Thl™''''' '" """'^ '"
give ouraelvea up to at the laaf l?,-f ^"5 "' "« """'t all
IS n't to be believed aa Them « a™ «.^ *' ",'^°"" °" P*^ it
we are, and come arorto'The^ »*"'•' "" "" ^ ''°««' "»'
Pn.XX°:k!S:Gio%?^^,r r --^ i^-cters, or, more
to the highest order, tWmewShr" '" f" "'^' ^'""^^
on the eaaential elements of ^..'P""""- ^' " ^a^ed
pathetic inoongruitiea of whieH'tw" °"*r' ''^^''' °° '"^^
n.an, ia made up, instead of finHi .u^""°'^'**'"'« "^ dust,"
a<»identalorextornaTclrouLtan °* '^1^"^^ '» ">« P-'elV
such humorists aa luS anlT., '^^' "" '^ *''« <^« ^'th
find a good subject for thercoL^""^'"'- '^^''^ ^»*'«' '"igl't
Milo's broken ioae, which at"hr° '" "^'"^ ^^ ^«»"« "^
stuck on the wrong ardeupwarrT"l.""''^° ^'^ ''8*«
nary specUtor into fita of faughtr~ Buf ^.* '° '^"'^ '^^ "'-^i-
laugnoer. But the genuine humor-
exU
OKOROB EUOT.
vJ'i:
iit Net wmething in thtt fMtuia lUeW, m nttm iluMd It
oThro;?ji"u7;:': ' ""■"" ^'"' -' "■• «••"•- -"«•
T^ ««ch thtt high .poclyptic mouM
Which •howi in blrdM,,, vl.w i p,rf«.t worM,
Or (Dttr wirmly into ochtr Joyi
ThM tho« «l f,„|ty, Bruggling hamu kiiul.
1 n»t itniii upon my loal'i too feeble wiac
Endi in ignoble flonndering : 1 f«ll
Into ihort-iighted pity for the men
Who, living in thoM, p,rf«:t ftitnre timet.
Will not know h»lf the Ueu imperfect thlnn
ThfZ'? .7 ""''""'' ««" - will ««." Uow
iBe »ne old incongrultlee that ralie
Mj friendl, Iwgh; th. innocent concelu
Th« Ilk. . ii«dle« ijtglu, or bl«k petch
Gir, tho« who w„r them h«ml,«i ..Wini«(
The tw,.t. „d cr«k. in our poor e«thenw«.
Th»t touch me to more coonciou. feUowehlp
P »m not mjrielf the Sneet P«ri«n)
With my coevals."
dencies^Xle :S'V*i ri/Sl^ ^ttf T '" '«'-
intellect. Humor drawn i^Z,l .\^}° **« ratiocinative
characteristics? wit TeTzes on n'/?"° '""'"'°'"' ""^
lations. . . . It il onlv th- ." "°*T<"*^ ""d «o«>Plex re-
stantareousMss wWch^ , ft "T""' Z'- «'»"l«»»»«''n. "d in- .
into w:t, theyare SJfning ^;:^"'^'^J f'T '.""""'"^
On the other hand humor n i J v 1. . '"*'''*** P°'"-
tion as it asso^UtesTe i w ^h fjf ' ^"'"l'""' '" P"'?*"-
continually passeT "inrU; nLT; K'" t^""":!!;'"^'
humorists may be called ^se poeta ^ ^ *''"* '"°*^'""
beii^r cCitif Ktr ^n\^"°''' '■-^ -^
-toi^o;^fsr^^^
aious or exceptional, pointing out repeatedly that
thoM which he hM in Lmm!^ «>« o^^j j^^^^ ^,
for here we hav, Z ." dy o^ \ hi IL"*'*' """'deration ,
of ciwum.tooee.dev.lo™ iioVZ^" ,^"'« """o, by .tree.'
"■•nkind, yet who i. &" b^k ^' "'""'T'^ •!*'"■>'« of
to whoIe.ome relatione ^th hi, fen„w ""'T' '"""^"i'"" and
prooeM a. the reawakening of hlnTlT" ^^ ""''' » ""'""J
hi. love for the UttU Zfd^^S^'' ''r''"' l'""*''
find, that child ha. only be«„ t^ i". •' "'*°" ''bere he
.ion, yet there i, n^mo™ .^werf^nv h*^ "^ '"•' I^^"'"* ''l-
of her noyel. tb-n tha? ^^J a ' '^"""» "'>»«on in any
«m., goe. out L the d;J''"'J,'''"'7'«'. ""« child in hi'
footprint, in the vrl ,now*Hi *""' '^^^ by the little
Godfrey Ca..'. opiuXt ^^ife T™ "'^•''""^ -"'ber,
sunk low in the fur.e and hl^'/l'^l^ '"b "ber head
•now." Therei.apio^*nf^ '"^ "'"^ *be .haken
.ingularly gifted artShel^' 0,'"^^^^^ *'''' ^"'"'^-'^
Kenerally known a. a novelist wM I • ^"^"^ ^""'n- "o™
torialinterpretation, that teemi '^ °7 °' "'« ^o" Pio-
«jnva. a visible embodUent "f ^r'"''''""' P^j*"' °» 'be
Tbe pale, emaciated weaver ,L„n "^rV."' ""' ""S*""'-
eyes at the body of the uloon. v * ""^ ''* »bort-8ighted
on the ground, clutch ng the ]usr.r""f ''°"""' "''^^bed
a™, while with the other he hoH*/^'*''"* "'""'* '^**b one
? feeble gleam on the snow ii , ""i*™ '''""b throws
intensity. ""* snow -is realized with exceptional
to describe, unlesrle could S*!''''.''';''^^ *° '«»d, not
delightful idyl whinh fn, ^ ** ''bole pages of this
of description'';e:a,M;eS":^^^^^^ ^""'""P^^ P-S
8»d-. Tranpoi. le Champi'i^a.rKuXr.^"^^
•wm
oxiv
GEORGE ELIOT.
!»'' ;i
CHAPTEB XI.
KOMOLA.
native t/Zio'eCTL^^ 'T'^ '^ '^^ P^'' ^om tS
American correspondent- «Tf ;= u , *' *° ''°
say, aproDos of a H?,Hn ;• ^^'''^P'' '*«« irrelevant to
growthinmyapprlcTatbn of nf^^ V-""'' '^'^ '' «°°>«
there has bfenTo ch^ge °J tt "f"* of" "^ "f -1-''-*-
which are at the root of my effort toTaTnT'll \ principles
e,u^ly at the root of my eL^'t pl^LS .^-^ ^
4tarnrs"umt:r^ri8^^^^ - *?"« ^-^'-^
that popular periodkLTJl fit.' ^"""'"S its course in
.ifyir^w^
ROMOLA.
Bxr
how her book is appreciated bl thf v ? ^y^eanng indirectly
"ome of the highes?rtWhYt I \'«''«^ /'^" "^ "-inds, and
In Florence we^ear^htrfre !iU wfth'^/rT''' "^ P°P"1"-
at such a work being executed bv»T ''^''' """^ ""'Pris^
had ever done anythlTome kfnd. ' "'^"' "^ " "» I*^''-
and conversation of Its ifhaS!T'" ^"^ ^^^ "»""«'«
the trick of Italian speech ttf '^ ^** '^' ''^''"^ "^^ght
hung back frora l^gTnn-n ' "er ZrT' 'T ''""'^^^''^ '^-^
only refused to speak KalfanLl^'w ^" characters not
^1. as we can wefl imajn M™ Povs. 'p''°"?'^ ""* ^P*^^' «*
Maggie to have done Thl. T ^^^''' ^^'"^ Massey, and
brought to order.and'she succeeXl"'*'""',,' P'"'^ ""« -' '"^t
delineation of the lower eiarefthrr"'.*'^^"'^"^ '" ^>«^
n-ed by Italians as true to th^ We ' ^'" "^^^ '^-^-
ItalLtSep;rSzin1 rn^^^' *« «^-*«^* --rn
indeed, with^het^^oducSn'^in^",."'"' '''^ ^^-"^''^S' ^"l!
fis^eof Savonarola He consMerfd.^ff''"'^ °^ *^« »^«»'
ably with ' Adam Bede' a novefh» ^^* 'V°"'P*™'1 ""fevor-
the marriage of Adam tith Dintf ^"°'> *'^""«''' ^" hut
shocked h.7feelings,notra!^neanv ^°'"^'. ^""h. he said,
of the novel-reading pubUc deLnJ ""T^'^"" 'hat the taste
ever may have been th«T™ . *'"^°''» ^ happy ending, what-
Another'illusSs tlST^^^' T *''^« ^'"--
such a subject carries 'peculiar wet^'; ^hose judgment on
Ehot to have been much C sup J7? ' •=°"»"i"«'i George
her novels of English co„~uf:"He";fr^\' *•>- ^^
the tone and color of Italian life n the fiff.K°' ^'''^ '^'''
caught with that intuitive per L.on of a t """"'^ ""'''
teristio of a Walter Scott or aMpinl M^^^" ^^e charac
contemporaries of " Fra GiroLo ,f "°''°"- The Florentine
Century men and Cnend^lr^"'^'* '<> ^''-^ Nineteenth
the Fifteenth. The S to u»« ."^ "" '^' ""=*"'"« °f
"native." ^' *° "'« his expression, was not
It is a majestic book, however : the n.ost grandly planned of
ozri
GBORUE ELIOT.
?' '•>
George Ehot'e novels. It has a certain architectural dignity
of structure quite m keeping with its Italian national,^, a
TJ^^' ^^. * ' ^^^^ '""'™^y ''''»*°' ^™" tl^" three later
Zof Mr t' ?'"J««"^«.l'istorical background is not unlike
one of Mr. Irving-s magnificently wrought Italian stage^ffects,
neh in movement and color, yet helping to throw the chief
figures into greater relief. The erudition shown in this work
the vast yet minute acquaintance with the habits of thought'
he manners, the very talk of the Florentines of that day are
truly surprising; but perhaps the very fact of that eruriUion
being so perceptible shows that the material has not teen
absolutely vitalized. The amount of labor George EUot
expended on 'Romola' was so great that it was the Ck
which she remarked to a friend, "she began a young woman
and ended an old one." The deep impresfion her ZrZZ
tTolnT .'^"'''"'"''.'''^ heightened her natural conscie^
tiousness and her gratitude for the confidence with which
each fresh contribution from her pen was received, increied
her anxiety to wield her influence for the highest ends.
the critin', ^^h*""*' *°, the public by no means extended to
the critics. She recoiled from them with the instinctive
shrinking of the sensitive plant. These interpreteis"en
author and public were in her eyes a most superfluous modern
nst tution : though at one time she herself h^ not scornTto
sit m the critic's seat. It is well known that G. H Lewes
acted aj a kind of moral screen protecting her from evlry
gust or breath of criticism that was not entirely ge^aT One
^e'hel oV:.''"" "''''' ^"^ °° *"« ^^-^•' '^■•"J -ritten off in
the heat of the moment, and, with the freedom of old friend-
nf fL fi VP"'"°S.tlie warmest admiration for the beauty
of the first two volumes, she had ventured to find fault wUh
part of the third. This letter was returned by Lewes who
begged her at the same time never to write again^inthTst^in
o George Ehot, to whom he had not ventu^d to show itT
fear it should too painfully affect her. In a letter t^ the
American lady already mentioned, George Eliot, X^fer
ring to this habit of Mr. Lewes, says : « In this way T^t con-
firmed n my impression that the criticism of any new writing
IB shifting and untrustworthy. I hardly think tU L J criti!
BOMOLA.
tx-rii
imagine any edification coming to In anfhl f ''^'^ ^ '"""'°*
rev.e«ring which consists in attr.ttTn/t^ hi ".* '"'^ °*
pressed opinions, and in imasininlni^ . "" "'■ ^" ""ex-
alleged as petty private Toti™ 7 """"'ta'x'^s which may be
which ought t^roTg^^erhl""; 'r""*"'°*«''»'J^'='»
been led into this rathfr suner«„ '"'*'*''• " " • ^ ^^^'^
mention of a rule wh chseemef 7' '°-' "' '^'"^''' ^'^ *he
And again on another r^r ^^T"' explanation."
not expect criticism from me T wl! T^ ''^'"'= "«"' ^o
judgment,' and I would^SLrL 'i'v"°« '» **>« ««"' °f
with the sense that th J Cget Z^' . ' P?"]" ^^""''"y
without necessarily fo^i^ne ^n ^ ?'"'' ^'""^ ^ book
would mshinto stating Sons Ifd """."J ''' "'''" ^
nonsense printed in the form nf 1 5 I °: ^''^ ^"ods of
achief curseof ourtTmes -achW r T°'°°' ^^^-^ '» »«
In spite of these s^^restrL/^^ ""A"*"*^^^
opinions, an "opinioXlt "owll"" 1""'='' '"«' t^-^"
This novel may really b^^udtredf^ *r° ''^"' '^°'»°la-'
points of view, V)ssibly from oth„/T ^7° .^^^''^'^ 'liffe™'^*
to me, from t^o Klv conll >' '' ''"*■ ** '' Wears
with its moving pageant7fts civ « h -,"'•*" W^torical work,
its religious revfv^tlt'fickle Zn,™ '' '*' "'"""''' ^«»«^->«
Pope, and now with tLw^W^'^T' ""^ t'*^'"? ^'"^ the
Or again one may re^Ird thl^ '■^°™'' °* "'^ P^Pacy.
Eomola and Tito, ^the !w snfritr/"^"' .f'""""" '^'^^en
the swifter moral dislnSa fon of th^o'Iher"' *'" °°^' '"^
"t trft 'T.^ •" P^^''''"^"^^ in tare"' " °"^ °' *^«
men? oTtht ^histS 'Sl^'"!; ^°"-,^ --"ierable ele-
they are not without a J^t "f ' J,'"' ^''^^^ ^""'ed *hat
The author seems to move omewha^ hrT'' T^ ^'^'"'^y-
of learning, and we misrthT!,.,.^"'^"'"^^'"''*'^ weight
ease of movement whrchShak^^f'^l'^i""' '^'^*"^»« ^d
how to imoart to chB^t ''hakespeare, Goethe, and Hugo know
instead o^^he peor^e ' „r°"'''-'""^ spectacular effects If^
the people, the larg'J CsivrTmr -'"'r" "'° '^°»'-*«'i
one must admit i^:'ZZZZl\'^-''^i!Z^--:^
"*''" GEOBGE ELIOT.
faithfully executed but not produced at one throw. He does
not take the imagination by storm as he would have done had
Carlyle been at his fashioning. With an epithet or two, with a
sharp, incisive phrase, the latter would have conjured the
great Dominican from his grave, and we should have seen
him, or believed at least that we saw him, as he was in the
flesh when his impassioned voice resounded through the
Duomo, swaying the hearU of the Florentine people with the
force of a great conviction. That he stands out thus tangibly
in 'Eomola' it would be futile to assert : nevertheless, he is a
noble, powerful study, although one has laboriously to gather
into one's mind the somewhat mechanical descriptions which
help to portray his individuality. The idea underlying the
working out of this grand character is the same which Goethe
had once proposed to himself in his projected, but unfortu-
nately never executed, drama of 'Mahomet.' It is that of a
man of moral genius, who, in solitude and obscurity, has con-
ceived some new, profounder aspect of religious truth, and
who, stirred by a sublime devotion, now goes forth among
men to bless and regenerate them by teaching them this
higher life. But in his contact with the multitude, in his
efforts at influencing it, the prophet or preacher is in his
turn mfiunnced. If he fails to move by the loftiest means he
will gradually resort to the lower in order to effect his pur-
pose. The purity of his spirit is tarnished, ambition has crept
in wnere holiness reigned, and his perfect rectitude of purpose
will be sacrificed so that he may but rule.
Such are the opposing tendencies co-existing in Savonarola's
mixed but lofty nature. For " that dissidence between inward
reality and outward s?eming was not the Christian simplicity
afte winch he had striven through years of hi.s youth and
prime, and which he had preached as a chief fruit of the
Divme life. In the heat and stress of the, day, with cheeks
burning, with shouts ringing in the ears, who is so blest as to
remember the yearnings he had in the cool and silent morn-
ing, and know that he has not belied them?" And again:
• It was the habit of Savonarola's mind to conceive great things,
and to feel that he was the man to do them. Iniquity should
be brought low ; the cause of justice, purity, and love should
HOMOLA. „j^
.enseofaelf^7trdTn1he:e:^'rfth:n"'''*'*ri.f°''''"-«'''«
part of his experience laVZelementeT*''''"''''",'' *" ""'*
ment, but ia the presenoe';,^ his X^et ffrT' "f ■*'^''-
his sius'but bocautWXir'l'r' ""' ^='-« o^
to deceive the world, but beca«»«T ' ""i ''«'=a"«e he sought
And through that greatness of ht h ?^*.'° ""^^ '' '""'le.
not only the 4ilfnTa„dfl.„i"'^"™'^^'^°"We agony;
but the agony oi^°fCl'^;,^„'*««' ^^^ the death-throe
ment into thft d^ep sh^„^ wh 'I'T"'" °^ 8'°"°"» acbieve-
as nothing: dairs'fn::n;it:°Te^^^^^^^
was the true light.'" ^ ^'"^ ^ saw
atSn^^t «'CG?rSo»"'"^f T '^« "hief interest
Eomola'f spirituS g^h Thi?^"'*" \^'' '"^''^''^ »"
yet in most novels thSinrt '°='y P^'^'^'y be a blemish ;
oalones. The effe t pS eTbv Z ^ V""'','' V^« ^'»'°"-
not unlike that of an antiol .f=. '''^ '"gb-souled Romola is
tiful and imposS cold B^th^'/"r.'P^^°'''<^'y^*"■
oneof the pure whiteness of L?w ',°* ^'*^ '^^ """'"^s
with the rich gIowin7seluoLZ f ""^^^'' ^ <"'°'^^*«d
It is difficult tl aXe X ;^^ *'''*" P''='"^-
hearted Eomola, who h^ som«fh ^^"5 '°"°8' «'"8l«-
impetuosity of the old « BaT bl'2 - *'.' ^'f"^'' '"^
this impression of coldnesirt ii^Jie'^f h'' ''r'V^''^«
nanimity and self-rfpvnt;„„ ""^'° spite of her acts of mag-
case. Perhaps rttrrtkn?; """""^'^ ^"""^h, is t^e
character too^ much a cord^Ho T, ''"'!* """^^"^^ '^e
instead of projects TtcoZli Ph'Iosophical conception
night have'oome f?om 'the htd ^f ^^."'-'"P'^'ei.-s, as it
tion sometimes brought forward of 1^ I'V ^^°'^" °''J^'=-
resemblanee to an Italif r^oif of t": fiftZt!, '"' !'"'^
seems to me less relevant Th» l^w I .''"centh centniy,
intense adhesion to flmi l tldi.^ ^ '*'^"'^' *''' P''-^^' *«
very marked attr bu ^ ofa hth „ 'r'',' ?" 'l """"''"y'
PeWod Of Italian supreml;. t ^£ ^^^^ ^^
•tr
"" OEORQB ELIOT.
Without hints and suggestions of such a woman as Vittoria
Colonna, while its d.daotio tendency slightly recalls "those
iJ^t i?""-? "^^'^'^ '?° ^'^^ professorial chairs, and were
ch Id of the Renaissance. Brougl.t up by her father, the
enthusiastio old scholar in pagan ideas, she had rem;ined
aloof from Boman Catholic beliefs and superstitions, and
r„ ''^*" V'T'L°."°«'l ^y ^^^ ">i«hty influence of Savonarola
into a devoted Puignone, her attitude always remains more
or less that of a Protestant, unwilling to surrender the right
of private judgment to the Church.
h.^V^^^ of character when a woman like Eomola finds
herself chained in a life-long bond to such a nature as Tito's
-the beautiful, wiy, insinuating Greek -is wrought out
with wonderful skill and matchless subtlety of analysis.
Indeed, Tito is not only one of George Eliot's most original
creations, he is a unique character in fiction. Novelisto as
a rule, only depict the full-blown villain or traitor, their
virtuous and wicked people being separated from each other
by a hard and fast line much like the goats and sheep. Thev
continually treat character as something permanent and un-
changeable, whereas to George Eliot it presents itself as an
organism flexible by nature, subject to change under varvine
conditions, liable on the one hand to disease and deteriora-
tion, but on the other hand no less capable of being reha-
bihtated, refined, or ennobled. This is one of the most
distinctive notes of George Eliot's art, and gives a quickening
fructifying quality to her moral teaching. But it is an
artistic no less than a moral gain, sharpening the interest
lelt in the evolution- of her fictitious personages. For this
reason Tito, the creature of circumstances, is perhaps the
most stnkmg of all her characters in the eyes of the psychol-
ogist We seem to see the very pulse of the human machine
laid bare, to see the corroding effect of self-indulgence id
dread of pain on a nature not intrinsically wicked, to see at
last how little by little, weakness has led to falsehood, and
falsehood to infamy. And yet this creature, who. under
our eyes, gradually hardens into crime, is one so richly
dowered with rare gifts of person and mind, that in spite of
BOMOLA.
flUi
s - a„ftr„7uptsttr ". "^- - ^- Z
hi». His beauty is deSd wX th« ° '^''f '»°'*«' ^i*>>
»'ty as Hetty's: the wa^m gW of J"""* "^'""' '°*«"-
moulded face, with its dark curis and 7 '" ^'' P*'^«'='l>'
his sunny brightness of look 21.ZVF "^^'^-'ike eyes,
with ;.hioh he ingratiat^^ hiiirlTA''"''' °* " ""'"""
the airy buoyancy of his wholT! .^"""S »'"1 °W, and
portrayed as the quick S ^t?'T .'^'"»' *™ <" ^^^idly
natural, the abundant good^ ulr th'I t\ "'"^'""^ """"^^
intellect, whose sUrp edg^ w!n at ^^"""' °^ " P^^^^od
through every tissue of sentime"; °'''' *"" ^«>en«essly
to the moment when hs id" w'".^ ^ ^""'^' '" ^imi
him from such a search and'^in"n1'* ^T"""' ^•''''"-^
when, suddenly face to f^e whh m" t *Y ""P™"* crisis
him, and so is inevitably Zed fl^' benefactor, he denies
cruelty to another still bSer IT *"' °^ baseness and
"=>. by an unshrinking aS,e7lf h*'' ""^""''^'^ ^^°'o
might not inappropriately TZlel " a""^" ,f *'"'«' ^''^t
The wonderful art in the wo,i,- ^ ^°"' » Tragedy."
«bown in the fact bat one ha °L°"' °'- ''"^ "^aracter^ s
Titos innate badness, but, on loir"'"! "°P™^"°° "*
his first lapses from truth «nH «°°'rary, feels as if, after
sibility of^is reform ngN^tnirtrt"," """ '^ P^-
nature were not driven on almn=. • ■^°^'^ Pleasure-loving
shuddering dread of sham; o Tuffer,?'''' °' ^'°"'«"' ''^ ^f
writes George Eliot, "TUo ZlfZ"^ '" ''''\^°''^- "For,"
law of human souls that Jfn '^ ^""'"^ "^^^ inezorab le
deeds by the reiteratVchoice of'^'^S'' ""f'"^^ '"' ^"''den
determines character." ^"""^ °' *^'' ''bioh gradually
The description of the married iifn nf t> ,
unsurpassed in George EIint'« I , / ^""""'^ *n<i Tito is
of insight : notabl7the younrif;,'"': ^"'"'^'^ -"d <lepth
complete inner harfnony hrfifstain/" ''"^'"^ ^""^
-ething wanting, be/ instinct; t^^rtoTe;^^!^
# '^^
oxxii
OEOROE KUOT.
«,. ' J ■ ** '"""''» "bsolutely surrender, Dn'dl
tliat which we find nottmyed in ' Romola ' ■ it i. . i ^1
H..1 with the fullesrbeli/f i„ the trlh and good„ ^of the"
beloved object, so that at the first realization o/rralobliauitv
the repuW created extinguishes that love, although tKs
no outward severance of the marriage bond. ^
w7 f *'!f """"^^ "'°'*' ''*''' '!"»« significant words which
Eono^a addresses to Lillo, Tito's child, but not her ow^f
And so, my Lillo, if you mean to act nobly, and seek to
know the best things God has put within reach ormanvo^
must learn to fix your mind on that end, and m.t on Zat w?n
happen to you because of it. And rem'ember if you te^'^to
choose so,^ethmg lower, and make it the rule of your life t^
seek your own pleasure and escape from what is ddn.ll.
calamity „,ight come Just the sam'e; and ." wluld be fa Lmitv
falling on a base mind, which is the one form of sorrow X^
t„ iTh "J" u' '"'^ "'^' "*y ^«" "ake a ma° say at
would have been better for me if I had never been ten !^'"
BEB PU£M£^
OKiil
CHAPTEB XII.
HB« POEm.
the chief landmark's "Su2eye!:'l8r-''T'' '°*" ^<"-
mroumstances of some importlnfe InTH" ''""»8"'''hed by
4"l?B=rrs:tr.^-V^-n^M™. .e.es moved
;^ North Bank, St. John's wS wS h '"""'»'"^'°« house
mately associated with the Cl„ °i'^'« <«""« *» be inti-
•n the pleasant dwellin/rnmnf^''^^ *^°°'8e Eliot. Here
»ight be met, at her sfX^lfif '^ .°'^«» '°"^^'>
the most eminent men in litoTaturfrr T'P"°'"'' """^ "f
rest her life flowed on its even tennr^. "''""'*• ^°' the
regulated. The monainglm^n/h °me ""*'"' "^'"^ "^'-Uy
townting: in the afternoon she efherT '7''"''"^ '^«^°'«d
dnre of about two hours, or she ?^lr n °"' ^°' « quiet
Regent's Park. There th« .f ^^ * ''*''' '''th Lewes in
a certain weird, tfeuiS^t T^r^'^-'''^"""
PoUsh refugee of vivacious mannerslmtK? ^"^^ ™''^'"Pt
>ng their arms, as they hurried alon~r^ ^ ''*°' '^''^S-
eager as their talk. Besides th«^,f' * P^« ^ 'apid and
recreation consisted Xl^UnJ'"^''' ^'°'«' ^''o*'" "hie?
Jenes. To music she was n!c • ^ concerts and picture cal
failing to attend^t riaCr X "'''°^'' '--^'^ --
James's Hall, besides frequenting ^H "" """""^^ »t St.
such as the following extr^t frL """'."""''"^ '^""io"^.
oxziv
OEOROE EUOT.
; I
I
.Sv fJlh" ''m"^ '".••" P"°P'* '•"> '"'Bht be nothing but
.imply fMh oMble. t^ing pain, to sing fine niu«io in tune
know""; o ' '"Z "' '"h rr'- °"« "' ""> •»"'«--
MOW u » o , who Med to be » gwell guardgman. and haa
happ.ly taken to good oourae, while .till qu^ y^unr a"
wife of the Queen's Se^^-u'; -Get'TplUte ^^,'
..a..g..ter of Earl Grey, and juftlirhSin^II^ace-K
theu..Sa^mt/ '''«'' "'^ "« --^^-"^ "^--"
MMto™»\T'H "'^"•""l^'o'i t° visit the "Exhibition of Old
Masters at Burlington House. To most people few thin™
exemse so great a strain on their mental anrptsicalpoweS
of endurance as the inspection of a picture cilery, with IS
nessant appeal to the most concentrated att^nt oT Yet, in
looki^^ wTthTh'""*^ *•■-' "•'* ~"''^ 8° °°' l'""' ''f'" hour,
looking with the same unflagging interest at whatever pos^
thlt we "^nt"" *" ""*""""' """8 °"* «-«" vigo^iL Z
»1 ™ ^1 f <='""Pany- 1° her works the allusions to art
are much less frequent than to music; but from a few hinL
here and there, it is possible to form some idTo? W ^^
one very significant passage in 'Adam r.h!. 1 • v '
SuT T ^' ^'^Wn'ings, tnrJt^^Jl'^:
sXls andhr •"* "^'°'" oloud-borne angels, from pr^pheto"
sibyls, and heroic warriors, to an old woman bending over hw
SrrrttL"*".' her soUtary dinner, while thf noon^y
mfhL..^^ P'^'^P' ^y » ^'"^en of leaves, falls on W
niob^ap, and just touches the rim of her spinning wheel and
her stone jug, and all those cheap commo/th"ni which ar^
the precious necessaries of life to her "
GaSs'""sh7wn.T'* °' "^"'^^ ^"°''^ ''"^ *he Zoological
a^rrpaSuS s?f r^-s rs'^hr^^';
p?a=:ras^Si5£S^H
BEH POEMB.
P'g.,led her to watoh them attenZh "' "F""""""" of little
particular favorite i„ e^ry Sr f' T *" ''''"' ""' """'e
too, «he W.H fond of turning n!l V " ^"' """"^'y ""nble.
n..ct life teeming in md.l dark' nl"*" '° ""*P«'" '^'' '"'»"^'
terested aa Lei^es himself fn fh/ ^ """' »"'' "he waa u in.
or .oientiflo purpose, indir^^n"' '"«"• '''^•' """"Pt
Making their entrance ntothir '"""'«'>oW by suddenly
the .. poor brutes," rsLeLiethr^JT"- ««' I'Wng ?o^
■n the same source o1 profound d^v^h'^h"! °"»'° »° ^-^b
fading, or inking and sLrh'"',''"'"''. "^^ "pent in
»o to the theatre on Iny ooZ*L°« L*"" '''!«,'"'d ^e^e. used to
Salvmi appeared in "oth'^n" "P*"'*' '"'««»'. as when
peatedly by both wL .«7^ ' * P<"formance attended r«
rarely iVhom'e, I d\m 'St'^af 'f,'"'- OtherSl;;-
although they fflado an eVptbnfntL„'' ^P'"'" '""""'^
They were both fond of t«™ ? °"' °^ » ^»'ored few
possible, would take tr^os t^ ^Jn'^ '""^' ''J"'»«ver it wm
English rural retreat awav fro™ ^k"","*"*' " "^^^ some q„l^
don. '. For," say. Le^L den^? '^"^r '"">»" "^ I^n
never seem, at home except unde^i^'" *i«"«'' "Mrs. Lewes
the greenth of the uplands ronn^K n""^ '"^^P of sky and
qaently contriving a chant« T ^"- ^° "« And them f«
--tries, the plel'Srir/ '"''''' ^"'« '"^^^^^^
Continental town« << ^1"!^"°» °? 'ong .uinmer dav, th^.'fu
-ntries, tii^pl^^^^tSL^^^ir "'^ ^^-^^
■^1 towns, "doling Si*™r^"^' *''«'»»••
episodes in George E&lril?J«'::.^°-«d
already been alluded to. Now i„ th. ^ ^^^"^ '" ^858, has
short visit to Prance in th * ^^^'^ ^866, thev MiH »
-andy,Brittany,rd'Crlrr:trni:'"''' ^^ «"-
the beginning of the auturnn ^^'"°'°8 ""eh refreshed at
wentto Spain,aco„nt,^thr^„,^7 ^''" '*"«''^"ds they
nterest for both; for in IMfi w ^T "°«««s«ed a peculi„
rfone-sided, Httle book oShe ZnS h """''*'' '""'^">'""
« Wee to I^pe de Vega andtE f ^ T^i«
11 fl
cxxri
J U.
I
OEOROB ELIOT.
year after tha appearance of < Romolo.' George Eliot produced
the first draught of ' The 8,«ini.h Oyp»y.' On beooming per-
sonally acquainted with tbii land of "old romance," however
her imprcHsions were so far modified and deepened that (he
tm'lSes.'""' ainplified her poem, which was not published
The subject of the gypsies was probably suggested to George
Khot by her own memorable adventure in childhood, which
thus became the germ of a very impressive poem. Be that as
It may. It 18 worth noticing that the conception of ' The Spanish
Gypsy should have followed so closely on the completion of
the Ita ,an novel, both being foreign subjects, belonging to
much the same period of history. In both the novelist ha.
departed from her habitual track, seeking for " pastures new »
in a foreign soil. After inoulcat-ug on the artist the desir-
ability of giving " the loving pains of a life to the faithful
representation of commonplace things," she remarks in ' Adam
Bede that "there are few prophets in the world, few sub-
limely beautiful women, few heroes," and that we cannot
afford to give all our love and reverence to such rarities. But
having followed this rule, and given the most marvellously
truthful delineations of her fellow-men as they are ordinarily
to be met with, she now also felt prompted to draw the exoep-
tional types of human character, the rare prophets, and the
sublime heroes.
To her friend Miss Simcox, George Eliot one day mentioned
a plan of giving '-the world an ideal portrait ol an actual char-
acter in history, whom she did not name, but to whom she
alluded as an object of possible reverence unmingled with
disappointment." This idea was never carried out, but at any
rate Dinah Morris, Savonarola, Zarca, and Mordecai are all
exceptional beings - beings engrossed by an impersonal aim,
having the spiritual or national regeneration of their fellow-
men for Its object. Dinah and Savonarola are more of the
nature of prophets; Zaroa and Mordecai of that of patriots.
Among these the fair Methodist preacher, whose yearning
piety is on y a more sublimated love of her kind, is the most
vividly realized; while Mordecai, the patriot of an ideal coun-
try, 18 but the abstraction of a man, entirely wanting in that
Ml^
HKR FORMH.
oxxvil
M«. Po7„™, her sX CntJ^?^-'"'''-'''^'''.':'^''^"' her
^d Eppie.. Yet the™ i.^ ' ■ ^'l ^'^^ ""'« Tottie.
PO.rerof invention in the ierotr'"''''/^"" »''"«''"" ""I
"Pite of this^r, temi«T/*"''°^.^^^ "'"•""Kb, in
Iwbella, with the ^l^i\ ' ^P^'" °^ ^'erdinand and
national tr«lition., he d?i not Zll """^ "'r'^"*"'"' °' ''"
the spirit which aniltedth*.-^^ '"""''''' '" resuscitating
U-. .-pictu^oaqao Zes The c^tr'' "T,'' ^"■"'"'""' ''"'
«atrologer.Zawa.andthe8nln,-.^r ''"."°''''' '^e Jewish
gloriously conceivr/Fel^r trS'tW V^r''' ""«•"•
much like sublimated m^f nerse f think and speak too
would.couId.orrSany'^;" ^th tft- I"' """P"''
expressed himself in the folKgleif'''""'"'*"""'^ '"'^«
Wl!t r""?""""' '- » "=■«" place,
Of heXt. '""."'?" '■■ ••>"■■« 'oil. the truth
«fy, m the silent bodily presence feel
WhlnT-' L ""?"« "' » ^"""on life
Which make, the many one: fidelity
Tothe coDKcrating oath our ,pon»or Fate
■'■^ff'
H', .(
'■**"" GEORGE ELIOT.
Fmi thoa th«t oath, my daughtor-My, not (eu.
But love It ; for th« Mnctity of oathi
Lies not in Ughtning that avenges them
Bot.m the injury wrought by broken bonds
And in the garnered good of human trust."
J/ ' -rTe'tri^h °r *"'*"'°' f "e«pond, to the exalted theme
of The Spanish Gypsy,' a subject certainly fitted for drama
or romance rather than for the novel, properly ocadled
Nothing cou!,l apparenUy be better adapted for the purposes
the ^^H "^^ "^T- "'" " °°'^^°8 1«»« tJ>^ the fusioH
lith!^^' ' ^"^""'S' lawless gypsy tribes into one nation
with common traditions and a common country: the romantic
S"of1i^tl'nT"V;'J^ '°^* '^''»«'"*-^° *•>« "^nced
br.de of Silva, Duke of Bedmar: the supreme conflict in
Fedalma's breast between love and duty, her renunciatSn o?
happmess in order to cast in her lot with that of her ouL^t
Sn S/r '" r '' '-^ '^«=«'*-° "^ ••- ~S
FelC \ tis solemn responsibilities to turn gypsy for
seeing the fortress committed to his trust taken by the gypsies
kin Isidor the inquisitor, hanged before his very eyes a
Zarca'L'^"^''!,""! *\'*' ^^""^^ """^"^o-^ °' ^^^ ^^ ^e %s
from ;hrt'"' "J*^'" ^'°"''" ^°'^"'"' ^^ ^ i-^Paasable guff
fron. the woman for whose sake he had turned apostate.
.n-eif f'2'"'^r ^"'* containing the highest capabilities, and, if
^eat thoughts constituted a great poem, this should be one
.mbued''w^h ''• ^"' T* "^' '*^ ''■^'^ "«"*«' ''« -"timents
imbued with rare moral grandeur, its felicitous descriptionr
the work la«ks that best and incommunicable gift which
comes by nature to the poet. Here, as in her noveirwlS
George Eliofs instinctive insight into the primary pa sTonso
tision Tt h^f Vh" :f '^"P^''"^ ^"^ I^ercingYeenness o
wfth^;.^ ^ thoughts, instead of being naturally winged
with melody, seem mechanically welded into song. This
applies to all her poetic work, although some of it, especS^^
•rhe Legend of Jubal,' reaches a much higher derrerof
metrical and rhythmical excellence. But although Geor^
HEB POPMS.
CXzU
do we perceive so ole^ L' tfe tie " 7" T"' ^°-^"«
view of life; nowliere doe? shT«n ! ^ ^ ?"""* '^°«''« °^ ^^'
stern lesson of the dutyof 11^^,^'"'^"^ '«'*«"**« «>«
that other doctrine tharthetadS.,-*".'' '^^-'^^ifice ; or
subordinate his personal hap^L t 'tT '' ^"f '''^°'"*«'y *"
has no rights save the right of fulfill \"^'t^ good, that he
age, his country, a„d his fl^ l!"''Sif idr'"^t'" '° '>'"
completely incorporated in Fedalm, f^ " P*'^^P^ ™ore
characters_Fedalmrwhn»V u^^" '° ^"^ other of her
the fullest measu e ^f beaurw:'^"."f""^*°'^°^«''-"^
renunciation may be th« m^' I' f"* ^'^iness, that her
young joy snddLy kn wTTerstfl'^-., ''" ^ '" »•-
exclaiming: Jierself as "an aged sorrow,"
^i a „1"",* ^ ■"'' ">"'"' ''"'■ '"e hour.:
It IS a part of me-a wakened thonght
That, ramg hke a giant, mastem me?
And grows into a doom. O mother life.
That seemed to nourish me so tenderly,
Eyen ,n the womb you yowed me to the fire
Hung on my «,«! the burden of men", ho^
And pledged me to redeem l-I'U pay tKbt
Ton gave me strength that I should ^ulit^
Into th,s anguish. I can neyer shrink
^tlirn^baTmlhr^'..'— -»«
ni^oTn^n^t*:urtf J" n-^ -^'^^out hope; for
satisfied in !uch°a Sme ISo/^s' - ' ^ " ""' '^^*-«
- - full Of .ne thoughts' ^lirsrexS^S^i:
* I
cxxx
GEORGE ELIOT.
would be unfair not to allude to them. Such a specimen as
^^X^^T"""- "* '^' «'""^1 ''"^i«" between thrHeUen?^
,nnl,l ^ v.f '"° '^"'^'' "^ ''^^^ Heine was the orig^l^d
incomparable expounder, should not be left unnoted :
With giMder rMoirectioa than ww feigned
Of Attila » fierce Hnns, the sonl of Greece
CoDquew the bulk of Persia. The maimed form
Of calmly joyou. beauty, marble-limbed,
Yet breathing with the thought that shaped its limbs,
I«oksm,ld reproach from out it, opened^ve
At creeds of terrer; and the vine-wreathed god
Fronts the p.erced Image with the crown of thorns."
And^again how full of deep mysterious suggestion is this
" f^^ '' '"" ''™^™ "S"" "Pon the depth
Of the unspoken."
And this grand saying —
"What times are little? To the sentinel
fhat hour is regal when he mounts on guard "
fZ kOk k!'""^"* sweetness "of sound and sense which U
the brthnght of poets. If an intimate and profound sT
qnamtance with the laws and structure of metre ruld bestow
verse ought to have achieved the highest success Kor in
governing these matters. j m me laws
hnw7- *°'?1'="''''>1« ?•>« felt the poefs influence to be and
how fam she would have had him wield this influence on^J
HEH POEMS.
czzxi
"tddressed to one who hj b^t ?»?i^/ ^^^"^ P*'*""' ««
time when his rarr^et^ ttJ ^ ^"P"*"**' "* ^^^ ^«'y
widely recognized "^als^TLr'' ^t""^^ *° "^ """^^
City of Dreiiful Kight ' a ™^™ v?' "" ^"''•°^ °^ '^he
pages of the ^.S k%'CS ST'^^"' - ''"e
v.," was thus addressed byXoJeStf "'°'*"" "' "^•
ance in the poem which von hL! V °' ^'"°'' *■"> ^and utter-
" Also. I Z,t Thatan inten! ^'- ^~ ^°°^ ■" ^ »«»d "«■
energy aa your, wiitl^^f^^'^^t^hT^^^^ °'"'='' "-»'-«'«
brace of human fellowship suc^ rwlu b?.^ t";"!!'''"' » "''*«' «■»-
what the Odes of Tyrtffius were^Th^ e '""'e laborers of the world
the sublimity of the^sSa! ^dertd th/"**"'' '^^"^ "^em with
that would dissolve it To^oL^^f the courage of resistance to all
to take a very large LIltX^tZJT ""'='' ^"^ P"^'^^' '»
to draw with it nece8sarilv^ft7m-' • ?^ '""°*'' «'»<'■ and seems
^^.. Of the — TX-'iJ^xt^iir-r-i? :r
wr^ V;t t Ir 'rrri '*''^"^«' ^''"^-^^ ^''^
cipient they are so wHh T dTfferenfe' 7:^' " "« ^
'The City of Dreadful Tvrj^iT*. ■ ° ^"^ pessimism of
paralyzes the inmost ntvSi'fet "" ,'if ""^ ''opelessness.
in cold obstruction Whre^(Lt^rp,f"? *^ ''"''"''"al
to the utmost "th^ burthen of^wfu^l' ^^^' ^«eosnizing
shine has a heart of care " in»if ^^^' ^^""^ «^«° ^^e sun!
this common suffering bTids man ^ ""? °" '"'^ ^««* *hat
that so far from iustffvVn, ..• °'^ mdissolubly to man:
will," the grornfaid tli'"r''"^.>'^ "^« "-»>- ^^
should stand firm It his 00^.1^?'?'°°' """^^ ''^^^ he
tion or requitaLso lone Zw lA '' u ^ P'"°°'" """^'d^'a-
the fate of his felTow^mortak 1? I """" ^"^^ '"^^'-^^ "taking
cxzzii
GROROE ELIOT.
that would haveltlSK SeXS^wTo'hl' t"""
nearest to you, aud aUo by some who L more £±7 AnS
U IS this kmd of good which must reconcile i^to^t / f
any answer to the question, 'What S f^ * • ' """l""*
been without mfl?' tL^ -^ T "^ *''® universe have
A B =r,!r>i!i, u ^"^ P°"" one has to care for is 'Are
A, a, and C the better for me ? ' AnH )•»>-,.» ,', ™
"The benignant strength of one, tramformed
To joy of many." ^^
«fiJ«V^^ intoxicating flush of success, the singer, who has
c^n tLte the •" °i ""• '■' *'** "««°«« transcendent wh^"
rift^nl J°y °f.«''''y°8 multitudes," loses her glorious
c'^L" T„%r^ "fr"*''*"^ *° '^ ""^'"^86 among the
crowd. In the first delirium of despair she longs to put an
end to herself, "sooner than bear the yoke of thwf^^wl "
but ,s pamfuly startled from her defiant mood W^e nli«.
nant query of Walpurga, her humble cousin - *
"Where » the rebel', right for yon alone '
Woble rebeUion lifts a common load ■
But what is he who flings his own load off
And leaves his f eUows toiling ? Bebel'. right 1
FEUX HOLT AND MIDDLEMARCH.
Sv rathe, the d«e«„^ Oh. you .mU^
Which yet you brand ae abject."
oxxziii
EHot should i'^ply'HtX^^ZTy:i^y,r'''t'''''' ««"'««
exceptional gift, but rathe. thatTrt ^T '° ^" '' °°' *^«
shares with ordinary huml ty Thi« , .' "*'"" '"'''=^ «>>«
leading beliefs, and stroagTy Lt^., V' °^'^*'' °°* °* ^er
Carlyle. To the author oT. Co^s^ •!:*'"'"' "''"
mass — moilingandtoilin^M w.„ t P. ^® promiscuous
miners and laborers -only Teptsenfs :T^ T^ "'''''''' ^
Ir ""v!"'' " p'°'i"-i thatZi r^'uirand iLrr°'''r''
the combination of human forces -trLf. I . '"""P^ °^
warrior, great poet, and s^forth T„r ^S?""''"' «'"'''
contrary-and thisisthp hI ,.^°. George Eliot, on the
is the multitude so chari!v tt^'f 1." t' °' ^" nature -it
deepest sympathy and tendere«f ^ '*'"°^' ''^^'^ <='^i««
greatness, in her eyes is nnr» .""f P^»'°"i 8° that all
entails on its possessor ! T ?"'^''«8«. ^ut a debt, which
devotion to thf ^ Z r^TCCLr' ^ ^^^^^^
CHAPTER XIII.
FELIX HOLT AlfD MIDDLEMARCH.
i;SneSettrn^;^S^^^^ «^-«« ^»°*
supreme and unrivalled -Ihe^nll * ^' ''^™ ^''^ ^'ands
life. This work, which however? nof^^f'^ P™^'°«'^'
or later fictions, yet posseZaft^. m • '^"^' "^ her earlier
the only one of hlr^^ZTTroJttll T""'' '"' "'• ^' '^
views may be inferred^f weTxoTudf '^ """^"'^ P""*'"-!
to be part of the novel seewth^fT?' '"''' '"'^««'^' seems
Working Men, by P°hx HoTt " ThV " '°''"''* "^'J<1™''« *<•
direct and concise form, p ecise^ ^f^' ""'°**'"'' '" '^ ■»""•
m, precisely the same general views as
•M-;*,,
*-'..
^■fe
OEOBGE ELIOT.
regards the principles of government which were previously
enunciated through Felix the Eadical. It was an appeal to
the operative classes who had been only recently enfranchised
by the Reform BUI. Its advice is mainly to the effect that
pnuine po itical and social improvements to be durable must
be the result of inward change rather than of outward legisla-
tiou. The writer insists on the futility of the belief that
beneficwl political changes can be effected by revolutionary
measures. She points out the necessity of a just disorimini-
tion bet'^een what is curable in the body politic and what has
to be endured She dwells once again, with solemn insistence,
ou the "aged sjrrow," the inheritance of evil transmitted
from generation - gsnoration, an evil too intimately entwined
with the complex conditions of society to be violently up.
rooted but only to be gradually eradicated by the persistent
cu tivation ot knowledge, industry, judgment, sobriety, and
patience. ' '
" This is only one example," she says, « of the law by which
human lives are linked together; another example of what we
complain of when we point to our pauperism, to the brutal
Ignorance of multitudes among our fellow-countrymen, to the
weight of taxation laid on ua by blamable wars, to the waste-
ful channels made for the public money, to the expense and
trouble of getting justice, and call these the effects of bad rule
This IS the law that we all bear the yoke of; the law of no
man s making, and which no man can undo. Everybody now
sees an example of it in the case of Ireland. We who are liv-
ing now are sufferers by the wrong-doing of those who lived
before us; we aie sufferers by each other's wrong-doing; and
the children who come after us will be sufferers from the
same causes."
To remedy this long-standing wrong-doing and suffering, so
argues Felix Holt, is not in the power of any one measure,
class, or period. It would be childish folly to expect an^
,^^1 ? , i K''^'' '^' ""^"^^ P'"P«'*y "^"«by a sudden
social transformation could be accomplished. On the contrary,
abrupt transitions should he shunned as dangerous to ordi
and law, which alone are certain to insure a steady coUective
progress ; the only means to this end consisting in the general
k^M^-
FELIX HOLT AND MIDDLEMARCtt
"~a, 0XZZ7
engendering vice and misery But 1^ fZ^^^ °^ necessity
edge, the working classes would te fble to H^ * '""" '"""'l-
of men they should choose for tK '''"'*" '''>»* sort
instead of electing "platform swaggerers whTh "'*"*"'=■ "■"»
but the ocean to make our broth whh" til 7/ "' °°'"°»
chief power to the hands of the tol v „i I "'^ """"^^^ 'J'*
to regulate life " according to the rulf' '''"'^^''ol'nowhow
m possession of." ^ *"'^'* principles mankind is
which are bere 'theoreticaS"e,'!Se^"K"l *° "'^ '''"^
aptitude would enable him t^ cZ, ^is knowledge and
higher calling. But he Tco^ns^^tr^ T^"* '» '=°°'Wered a
•'getting on in the world ■ "his seuae of "fin' T''""" "»"«<»
him to remain a simple artisaTthat L ^*"°"'«'"P Prompting
influence on the class to whioT !« L^' ""^ ^«^' ^° «levatini
80 argues this E^ic^-Con.L^ r '°u«'- ^^^ differences!
constitution of sSy be. Zr''^'- •?'"» '"""^^nt in the
withdrawwhatS^^l'TryrrSh:'^'"^'''""^
they are urgently needed in ordT J ° ! '°«'"n'n where
selfish aims, some other 'b^^ of'' t^"^' *"' J^^ '^^' "^
superfluous. ^ ^ '"®° ^^^6™ they may be
The other distinctive feature of ' Felix ffoH .
elaborate construction, rankine it Jf^ , °°°"''' '° *'«
tional novels. As a rule Geor™ ZJ^.^^! *"'°"8=* s^^^^-
10 plot, the incident seemtXf' T''' ^^^^ ""'« »
writer for the sake nf ,,;!!. °^ ^° °""='' invented by the
natural Ct ot th S'°LT '''^'=""« ^°^''' ^ to 1^ the
stance. This staplilv of ^"T ""^^'^'er and circum!
highest class o^nteY tCZ'^Z'^"'^?'' °° -^o"!". *» the
Wakefield,' 'Waveriey' and. V ! ^^^'•'"^ 'T^« Vicar of
Holt,' how'ever, the intricate 7Zol^f- !!f'°°«- I" '^«1-
characters seem to be enmP^h J ^^ "'''='''«''*« ^^ch the
French art of ?tor^.tei,i„7w>^ <" J""'- ""^""^ ^^e modern
is also the straSy Slent int "'"^:^.°^ '"^«"«'"'' <«
ougeiy repellent intrigue which forms the nu-
^2?««Km-/
I
oxxxvi
GEORGE ELIOT.
cleus of the whole. All the elemento which go lo make up »
thrilling narrative -such aa a dubious inheritance, the dis-
appearance of the rightful claimant, a wife'a guilty secret, the
involvements of the most desperate human fates in a perplex-
mg coil through sin and error -are interwoven in this story
of ' iehx Holt the Radical.' ^
Though ingeniously invented, the different incidents seem
not so much naturally to have grown the one from the other
as to be constructed with too conscious a seeking for effect
There is something forced, uneasy, and inadequate in the
lalx>rious contrivance of fitting one set of events on to another,
and the machinery of the disputed Transome claim is so in'
volved that the reader never masters the « ins " and « outs "
of that baffling mystery. Still, the groundwork of the story
13 deeply impressive : its interest is, notwithstanding the com-
plex ramihcation of events, concentrated with much power
upon a small group of personages, such as Mrs. Transome
her son Harold the little dissenting minister, Eufus Lyon
Esther and Felix Holt. Here, as elsewhere, the novelist re-
veals the potent qualities of her genius. Not only does this
story contain such genuine humorous portraiture as the lach-
lymose Mrs. Holt, and the delightfully quaint Job Tudge. but
It IS also enriched by some descriptions of rural scenery and
of homely existence in remote country districts as admirable
as any to be found in her writings. Kufus Lyon is a worthy
addition to that long gallery of clerical portraits which are
among the triumphs of George Eliot's art. This "singular-
looking apostle of the meeting in Skipper's Lane " — with his
rare purity of heart, his unworldliness, his zeal in the cause of
dissent, his restless argumentative spirit, and the moving
memories of romance and passion hidden beneath tha odd
quaint ph,jsigue of the little minister encased in rusty black —
13 among the most loving and lovable of characters, and recalls
more particularly that passage in the poem entitled <A Minor
Prophet, winch I cannot but think one of the author's finest,
the passage beginning — ^
"T|i« pa"i<M exquisite of lovely minds
Hid in harsh forms — not penetnitiug them
Like fire divine within a common bnsh
Which glows tnuisfignred by the heavenly gnest
F^UX „OLT AND Mimu.,Ancu. „x„vii
ness. This charming Esther thoZ ?"«»?<'"'»'"? 'ovell-
her feminine vanitief and wi?i°°* ""Sinally without
characters dear to George S^heT'T """ "^ "'"^^
allurements of an easy pleasurll '" ' ^'«' «"">unce the
satisfactions of a noble loveTaSl!"'f''r ^ *•>« '"'sh"
notice that Eppie, Esther P.h!i ^'^^'''- ^' " ''""ous to
all children w^^ hkfe tei.^^tSl'f '''''"' ^^^'^'"''^ -«
Parwtage, and that to all of Them '" '^"°'''"''* °^ *''«' --cal
more or less difficult deci ion has to C- T'^ " """^ ^''«» '^
or evil they have to choose, once for aU W ' ^"""^ ^°' S°°^
mg claims. Like Eppie, Es h "r reiect^ h 7"'" '"° '"'"«'<''-
fT" i°''r'' ""-^ «'^='' to share thetaH?;!"*^*'''' "^ •>*'""
the high-minded Felix. But Th r)i *"" <^'e"ificd life of
even higher moral worth, becaue tlT ' ^' "^^^ """"-^
susceptible to the delicate refinemen^^ ^'^ '^" '" «° "^^^'r
•which are the natural accompa;~ ^TIT''',"' "'^^'""''^^
_ The most curious feature of tM!.! , ""^ ''"'^ ^^^'th.
>ts original treatment of inic^t n^ «• "^ x?"'"'"' P«'''^P'. in
when handling this su^ect d p,S"fa,''°?"^'=' ^ ^'">«.
contrast to the sufferings and ff fascinations in brilliant
But George Eliot conSs her^e f with s^' '°"°" '" '*^ *-»•
«de of the medal. Youth h^ fX t? •°^."' ^^' ''^'^'>
turned to loathing, yet memorriik« o ' '"i^ ," ''^^'^' '"^« has
the gray-haired Mrs. Come who Wd "''^/"■•^•P"""«^
such a heavy load of shame and dladlhr'^'" """ '"^^*
S'ty with which this character^f tv ",. ^ P"''®' ^nd inten-
wardly quailing woman is dr^^nl*^ ''^"s''*y. 'tern, yet in-
and there is tragic horror inTAr^l'P''''''^ '" their way,
from the vulgL, ^an seltom2;^^f fi°«=tsensibilitie^
skinned ever to know that in h^ol"' ''''^"- too thick-
Judgment on her whose life ha.' irmfdrr/' " '. ''''^
""■ "^'^^ "°- *»P-ively than hr^ftCntS
».*,
3
II
ill
cxxxriu OEOROE ELIOT.
enforce her teaching that the deed follows the doer, being im-
bued with an incalculable vitality of its own, shaping all after
life, and subduing to its guise the nature that is in bondage to
it Like those fabled dragon's teeth planted by Cadmus,
which sprung up again as armed men, spreading discord and
ruin, so a man's evil actions seem endowed with independ-
ent volition, and their consequents "xtend far beyond the
individual life where they originated.
If 'Felix Holt' is the most intricately constructed of
George Eliot's novels, ' Middlemaroh,' which appeared five
years afterwards, is, on the other hand, a story without a plot.
In fact, it seems hardly appropriate to call it a novel. Like
Hogarth's serial pictures representing the successive stages in
their progress through life of certain typical characters, so in
this book there is unrolled before us, t. /f, 'o much the history
of any particular individual, as a wLuje phase of society
portrayed with as daring and uncompromising a fidelity to
Nature as that of Hogarth himself. In 'Middlemaroh,' Eng-
lish provincial life in the first half of the nineteenth century
IS indelibly fixed in words " holding a universe impalpable"
for the apprehension and delight of the furthest generations
of English-speaking nations. Here, as in some kind of pano-
rama, sections of a community and groups of character pass
before the mind's eye. To dwell on the separate, strongly
indmdualiied figures which constitute this great crowd would
be impossible within the present Umits. But from the county
people such as the Brookes and Chettams, to respectable
middle-class families of the Vincy and Garth type, down to
the low, avaricious, harpy-tribes of the Waules and Feather-
stones, every unit of this complex social agglomeration is
described with a life-like vividness truly amazing, when the
number and variety of the characters especially are considered.
I know not where else in literature to look for a work which
leaves such a strong impression on the reader's mind of the
intertextnre of human lives. Seen thus in perspective, each
separate individuality, with its specialized consciousness, is
yet as indissolubly connected with the collective life as that
of the indistinguishable zobphyte which is but a sentient
speck necessarily moved by the same vital agency which stirs
the entire oreanism.
nux HOW AND MIDDLEMARCH.
—v". oxzxis
Garth. I)oroth,i'beS^tWe"SvVne^1' ""* ^"^
»uoh 08 Bomola and Fe^lZTJZ:^ll^ °^ womanhood,
cificall, George EHofa ttr'andt^'hi 'rTr *" "^ 'P^*
common with such Greek ideX». a .• ^'^^^^ """^ «
than with more moder^ httes But^C !;;' ^P'''««°^
10% her aspirations, haa not H.«rh„-.- ?"«>"'«». however
or the antiq'ue devotio^ Tf Jl'dSa "sh "°'''" °' ^""''^
problematic natures already s»ken^?. Jn !> "'"' °^ *^°'«'
oumstances, and never a»^V.^ . ' '"-adjusted to her cir-
self. It is 'true thTher' h Jhli^'ri/?""''''"-'' ^ her-
are partially stifled by a soil m^lf *u°"°"' Possibilities
demand for them: sWl the loh, t '',^''" '^"^ »««"«• »°
way in which to work <^u its destny """^ """'"'^ ^""^ ''°""'
who^r '^trm^v^-o^- f -i "^- «»- born
matched with the meanness of oTnlT T"""^ 8'^'"J«w i"-
Mure which found n^Z^lTZ^ LT""' '^ '"'«'''
oblivion. With dim lights and teli °. ^ '' ™''«P' i-""
tried to shape their thought afdlefj' ""■?r'"^°'=« ^^7
but, after all, to common eyes thetr 1 ° "i°"' agreement ,
^^^rm the l^^^tZ^^^^ttrS^^:^
inc:SnrMltL?sTitfwl't "^^^ - -^^ *» t-e
fashioned the natur s of womL if th ' ^"^'^"^ ^"'^^ ^»«
feminine incompetence as striTa^ the rrr? °"* ^«^«' °*
and no more, the social lo of wHn'^^t^j*" "°"°* *bree
scientific certitude. Meanwhile the in^lfV*^ '™^'«<^ '^i'b
Such a Ufe of mistakoq k t},.,^„t .i . ™rae.
mi..raseg is that of the beautiful Dorothea,
mi^i ^"^ mmnmmwM
cxl
OKOROK ELIOT.
th. .Interred w.f. of Cwaubon. In hi. w.y the charwter
of Guaubon ia oa great a triumph oa that of Tito himself
The norelut seems to have crept into the inmost recewe. of
^v^A n , I '''•«««"l7'""'y. and to lay bare before our eye.
the dull labor of a bram whose ideas are still-born. In an arti-
ole by Mr. Myers it is stated, however incredible it may sound
that an undisoriminatir.g friend once condoled with Georg^
El.ot on the melancholy experience which, from her knowU
edge of Lewes, had taught her to depict the gloomy character
of Casaubon , whereas, in fact, there could not be a more
staking contrast than that between the pedant groping amid
dim fragment of knowledge, and the vivacious luJateur and
thinker with his singular mental energy and grasp oi thought.
On the novelist's laughingly assuring him that such was bv
no means the case, "From whom, then," persisted he, "did
you draw 'Casaubon' 7" With a humorous solemnity, which
was quite in earnest, she pointed to her own heart. She con-
fessed, on the other hand, having found the character of Ros-
amond Vmoy difficult to sustain, such complacency of egoism as
has been pointed out, being alien to her own habit of mind
But she laid no claim to any such natural magnanimity as
could avert Casaubon's temptations of jealous vanity, and bit-
ter resentment. j. -"u uii-
If there is any character in whom one may possibly trace
.ome suggestions of Lewes, it is in the versatile, brilliant
teleni^d Ladislaw, who held, that while genius must have
the utmost play for its spontaneity, it may await with con-
fidence "those messages from the universe which summon it
to Its pecuhar work, only placing itself in an attitude of reoen-
tivity towards all sublime chances." But however oharminr
the impression Ladislaw produces is that of a somewhat shal-
low, frothy character, so that he seems almost as iU-fitted for
Dorothea as the dreary Casaubon himself. Indeed, the hero-
me 8 second marriage seems almost as much a failure as the
shiltifying union of Lydgate with Rosamond Vincy, and ha^
altogether a more saddening effect than the tragic dTath^
Maggie which is how much less pitiful than that deathin life
We'birkri^CtsXtr "^^ -^^ ^"^ ''^' ™^
FELIX HOLT AND MII,„I,k„arcH. cxU
ofaom.tliingre,embH„J * " '''P<'<="t<'. but has avdn
able vioar of St S,?', nf xr' ''T""' 8*""''''''>' bonor-
tongued, witty, medS «„ „ 'a S .^t""?"';""' '"« ^'"^
of high life /of Caleb Garth "hof!'Hr''°' **"• ^"J""
religion, and whose likeness ta Zr u k °"°° *" ^°'k '« a
been pointed out; o th" "l^le hi. f^'' ^"""' '"«' a'^"''/
of many other aupVcmeJ ^rv id cit ' '^r"''" *'"y' ""^
to would carry us too far ""a'-^t^". "horn to do justice
the aspiration, and clearformu at " h ' f """'" '°'^»"'«
of the nineteenth century Tr 1 '"'""""''■ "' "'« ^-omen
the stereotyped theory about worn w"^ 'k"""'.'" """"''""' »»
-ide her syn^pathies ^e^er^ZT'ZZV'T, "".""''=''
more partial to the educations m„ ^ '^'■°'«' ^be wa3
agitation which aims at see„ 'i- *'^''°'' - '" "''' """^
ment of wo„>en. How si .cerelv »^ '■'"^ ^'^'''' ^^f^'-^hise-
3 -bown by the donatf H^V^'KroX'"' ''I '•^^'^
'KomoN.'" when Girton PnllLJ^ / " ""^ ""'bor of
alette,, a young ^ wfttudr/M' ''"''''•*• ^""^ '"
career she w J ^uufhTnLltrtlaS""^ " """«
of Girton is very satisfactory" a ^l' ^' Prosperity
friends, too, werJsomi of 7c' ndfe^wh^n 'l"."?'"' """"''^
organized the Women's SuffrLi tn .^"^ ""'''"«'' ""■»
i»g to Miss Phelps she tlhZT. TZ''^' ^"'«'^"« "'it-
in Boston, and rema ksp„ni *°..'^' ^°'"'"''' Lectureship
office that may r^kB ! "^ ""^ "^'^ University: "An
which is at :LTer:?erar::'^"' '" '°f' ""-'-. atd
tried. America iltlfe s«^H ^T"""""' *'"" °"Sbt to be
where they can^^l i^rf:? '""^^ ■""> ""'»^ry of new ideals,
In 1871 fC V ^^'■' ^™«r air than ours."
v^'^Zi'i'it:::iz ;rtThf' ^-^ -^^-'-^ ^"
months at ShottermillVa quaint Ha™ v''""?. ""'' """""«'
amid a landscape that unit^sCtfes ofthr '" '^' """"^-^
He™ we may imagine her al:^ Mr ^2^: Z r'"^"''-
work was done, either seeking the ya^t It^ ' Tth :nd
ozUi
GEORGE ELIOT.
common only bounded by the horizon, or strolling through
the deep-sunk lanes, or finding a soothing repose in " places
of nestling green for poets made." They had rented Brook-
bank, an old-fashioned cottage with tiled roof and lattice-
paned windows, belonging to Mrs. Gilchrist, the widow of
the distinguished biographer of William Blake.
The description of Mrs. Moyrick's house in ' Daniel Deronda '
"where the narrow spaces of wall held a world-histoty in
scenes and heads," may have been suggested by her present
abode, rich in original drawings by Blake, and valuable prints,
and George Eliot writes : " If I ever steal anything in my life,
I think it will be the two little Sir Joshuas over the drawing-
room mantelpiece." At this time she and Mr. Lewes also
found intense interest in reading the ' Life of Blake.' Some
correspondence, kindly placed at my disposal by Mrs. Gil-
christ, passed between this lady and the Leweses in connec-
tion with the letting of the house, giving interesting glimpses
into the domesticities of the latter. Their habits here, as in
London, were of clock-work regularity, household arrange-
ments being expected to run on wheels. "Everything,"
writes George Eliot, "goes on slowly at Shottermill, and the
mode of narration is that typified in ' This is the house that
Jack built.' But there is an exquisite stillness in the sun-
shine and a sense of distance from London hurry, which
encourages the growth of patience.
"Mrs. G 's " (their one servant) "pace is proportionate
to the other slownesses, but she impresses me as a worthy
person, and her cooking — indeed, all her attendance on us —
is of satisfactory quality. But we find the awkwardness
of having only one person in the house, as well as the advan-
tage (this latter being ouietude). The butcher does not bring
the meat, everybody grudges selling new milk, eggs are
scarce, and an expedition we made yesterday in search of
fowls showed us nothing more hopeful than some chickens
six weeks old, which the good woman observed were some-
times ' eaten by the gentry with asparagus." Those eccentric
people, the gentry I
" But have we not been reading about the siege of Paris all
the winter^ and shall we complain while we get excellent
■
mmm^- j^^i^^f-j m.
FELIX HOLT AND MIDDLEMAHCH. cxliii
bread and batter and many etceteras 7 . . . Mrs.S kindly
sent us a dish of asparagus, which we ate (without the
skinny chicken) and had a feast.
" You wiU imagine that we are as fond of eating as Friar
•1, T .'"° enlarging so on our commissariat But vou
will also infer that we hare no great evUs to complain of.
since I make so much of the small."
George Eliot rarely went out in the daytime during her
stay at ShottermiU, but in the course of her rambles she
would sometimes visit such cottagers in remote places as
were not likely to know who she was. She used also to go
and see a farmer's wife living at a short distance from Brook-
bank, with whom she would freely chat about the growth of
fruits and vegetables and the quality of butter, much to the
astonishment of the simple farm people. Speaking of her
recollection of the great novelist to an American lady by
whom these facts are recorded, the old countrywoman re-
marked: "It were wonderful, just wonderful, the sight o'
green peas that I sent down to that gentleman and lady
every week." '
After the lapse of a few months spent in this sweet rural
retreat, George Ehot again writes to Mrs. Gilchrist: "I did
not imagine that I should ever be so fond of the place as
I am now. The departure of the bitter winds, some improve-
ment m my health, and the gradual revelation of fresh and
fresh beauties in the scenery, especially under a hopeful sky
such as we have sometimes had -all these conditions have
made me love our little worid here, and wish not to quit it
until we can settle in our London home. I have the regret
of thinking that it was my original indifference about it (I
hardly ever like things until they are familiar) that hindered
us from securing the cottage until the end of September "
George Eliot's conscientiousness and precision in the small
affairs of life are exemplified in her last note to Mrs. Gil-
christ :" After Mr. Lewes had written to you, I was made
aware that a small dessert or bread-and-butter dish had been
broken. That arch-sinner, the cat, was credited with the
guilt. I am assured by Mrs. G that nothing else has
been injured during her reign, and Mrs. L confirmed the
^.^-^-^^i^miLd
cxliv
" "^R rk
OEORQE ELIOT.
Statement to me yesterday. I wish I could replace the unfoi-
tunate dish This note, of course, needs no answer, and
It 13 intended simply to make me a clean breast about the
crockery."
About this time George Eliot was very much out of health :
indeed, both she and Lewes repeatedly speak of themselves
as two nervous, dyspeptic creatures, two ailing, susceptible
bodies, to whom slight inconveniences are injurious and
upsetting. Although it was hot summer weather, Mrs. Lewes
suffered much from cold, sitting always with artificial heat to
her feet. One broiling day in August, after she had left
Brookbank, and taken another place in the neighborhood, an
acquaintance happaning to eaU on her, found her sitting in
the garden writing, as was her wont, her head merely shaded
by a deodora, on the lawn. Being expostulated with by her
visitor for her imprudence in exposing herself to the full
blaze of the midday sun, she replied, «0h, I like it I To-day
IS the first time I have felt warm this summer."
They led a most secluded life, George Eliot being at this
time engaged with the continuation of ' Middlemarch : ' and
Lewes, alluding to their solitary habits, writes at this date :
Work goes on smoothly away from all friendly interruptions
Lord Houghton says that it is incomprehensible how we can
live in such Simeon Stylites fashion, as we often do, all alone
— but the fact U we never are alone when alone. And I
sometimes marvel how it is I have contrived to get through
so much work living in London. It's true I'm a London
child. Occasionally, however, they would go and see Tenny-
son, whose house is only three miles from ShottermO but
the road being all uplUl made the ride a little tedious and
uncomfortable, especially to George Eliot who had not got
over her old nervousness. The man who used to drive them
on these occasions was so much struck by this that he told the
lafly who has recorded these details in the Century Magazine ■
"Withal her being such a mighty clever body, she were very
nervous in a carriage — allays wanted to go on a smooth road,
aud seemed dreadful feared of being thrown out. ' On one
of these occasional meetings with Tennyson, the poet got
involved in a conversation with the novelist concerning evolu-
"M
Mmm^^-'^v^i^^-m **^^' '^ '^81
DANIEL DERONDA. exlv
toJ^tW '""'I ''"*''*^ questions. They had been walking
«5^ ^°A°°' ^8"°'«°t. and as the Poet-Larireate bad!
w^f !f J^?'''"' •'^ ''^I'^'l *° her, already makkg^r
^wlv« If ? ^^ •r''' r*^ '" ^" <^««P 1°^ ^oioe (which
always got lower when she was at all roused), "I am Quite
content with my molecules." ^
The country all around ShottermiU with its breezy uDlanda
heaK'l^r'^^L"^""''^ ''^'^ °^ landpuTpKh
Q^ort« F,W K ■"".' "^T" """« '^'"1 """'^ ^■"ieared to
George Ehot, who, indeed, liked it better than any scenery in
England. Here she could enjoy to the full that "sense of
S V\^™""'^ world," which, she writes to Mrs. Gil-
chnst who had used the phrase, "was precisely what she
most cared for amongst out-ofnioor delights." Some years
afterwards we find her and Mr. Lewes permanently tSg
kind o/r !^f' "' "^"'^y '" «""«y' ^^^'^^ J«« *!•« «amf
kmd of beautiful open scenery. Writing from her town resi-
We too, are thinking of a new settling down, for we have
a S envT» " S"™ V'""' ^°"'- """- f™" GodL: ng ::
mr? ^th r t ""'^- °"' P™=«°' •''«'» i' that we shall
.rT J X • , ^^^' '^ "^ *he same line of railway with
some good friends at Weybric^ge and Guildford." ^
CHAPTER XIV.
DANIEI, DERONDA.
dkmal^r'^^""'"'^''/''''''' ^PP"''™'^ five years after 'Mid-
affinity wTth'Th«t '"T!^' '"' /* '^^ P^'h^ps the closest
amnity with 'The Spanish Gypsy.' Speaking of this work
Geori°EUo't fTv °' 'r^'' "*'"='^^" ('" whose career
txeorge Ehot felt keen interest), she expressed surprise at the
oslvi
OGOROE ELIOT.
amazement which her choice of a subject had created. "I
wrote about the Jews," she remarked, "because I consider
them a fine old race who have done great things for humanity.
I feel the same admiration for them as I do for the Floren-
tines. Only lately I have heard to my great satisfaction that
an influential member of the Jewish community is going to
start an emigration to Palestine. You will also be glad to
learn that Helmholtz is a Jew."
These observations are valuable as affording a key to the
leading motive of ' Daniel Deronda.' Mordecai's ardent desire
to found a new national state in Palestine is not simply the
author's dramatic realization of the feeling of an enthusiast,
but expresses her own very definite sentiments on the subject.
The Jewish apostle is, in fact, more or less the mouthpiece of
George Eliot's own opinions on Judaism. For so great a
master in the art of creating character, this type of the
loftiest kind of man is curiously unreal. Mordecai delivers
himself of the most eloquent and exalted views and senti-
ments, yet his own personality remains so vague and nebulous
that it has no power of kindling the imagination. Mordecai
is meant for a Jewish Mazziui, Within his consciousness he
harbors the future of a people. He feels himself destined to
become the savior of his race ; yet he does not convince us of
his greatness. He convinces us no more than he does the
mixed company at the "Hand and Banner," which listens with
pitying incredulity to his passionate harangues. Nevertheless
the first and final test of the religious teacher or of the social
reformer is the magnetic force with which his own intense
beliefs become binding-on the consciences of others, if only of
a few. It is true Mordecai secures one disciple — the man
dertined to translate his thought into action, Daniel Deronda,
as shadowy, as puppet-like, as lifeless as Ezra Mordecai Cohen
himself. These two men, of whom the one is the spiritual
leader and the other the hero destined to realize his aspi-
rations, are probably the two most unsuccessful of George
Ehot's vast gallery of characters. They are the representa-
tives of an idea, but the idea has never been made flesh. A
succinct expression of it may be gathered from the following
passage:
•IbJP t
DANIEL DERONDA.
oxlvii
no de^"" R °' *'1'''"°« ^""y *>>« I^'-i °f Judaism is
Isrlol wiinh r'' *"!.' °u«"""' '=«°*'«-- l«t the unity "f
rlT. ^'""^''^s^'^ade the growth and form of its relig-
ion be an outward reality. Looking towards a land a^^i
ir f^ °"; '•"P"""* P^°P'« •" ^" *•■« «nds of the earth Zy
share the d.g^ity of a national life which has a yo>oe am"ne
wisdom and skill of our race, so that it may be. as of old a
totsTandthTr'""" ''\' -derstanding' Let that co,;:
ness of thTri' r^'f "°'" '•" ^*"»h' •>°' '" the law^rs-
ness of the renegade, but • the illumination of great facte
which widen feeling, and .^e all knowledge alfve as th^
young offspring of belove. memories"
This notion that the Jews should return to Palestine in a
Wy, and once more constitute themselves into a dLtinct
nation, is curiously repugnant to modem feelings Is epug
ZtTJ^ """ T'"°'' "^'"•' '' '^^ ""Pl-I inthe book,
steictly adhering to their own race in marriage -at least
Mirah the most faultless of George Eliot's h^oines whot
character expresses the noblest side of Judaism, "is a Jewess
who will not accept any one but a Jew " '» a Jewess
Mirah Lapidoth and the Princess Halm-Eberstein, Deronda's
two t"''rJr"i"'*' *'' "'"'""^ p"'p°»« °^ «°"f-«'g
two types of Jewish women. Whereas the latter strictlv
ifw ZiTe^'b ''f' '"' ""''' "'""*« obseillt'sTh^
Hebrew father, breaks away from the "bondage of havine
eyen m dis^^ku of her Jewisn origin," clings with inviolable
0x1 via
GEORGE ELIOT.
^^',
tenacity to the memory of that origin and to the fellowship of
her people. The author leaves one in little doubt as to which
side her own sympathies incline towards. She is not so much
the artist here, impartially portraying different kinds of
characters, as the special pleader proclaiming that one set of
motives are righteous, just, and praiseworthy, as well as that
tne others are mischievous and reprehensible.
This seems carrying the principle of nationality to an
extreme, if not pernicious length. If there were never any
breaking up of old forms of society, any fresh blending of
natioualities and races, we should soon reduce Europe to
another China. This unwavering faithfulness to the traditions
of the past may become a curse to the living. A rigidity as
unnatural as it is dangerous would be the result of too tenacious
a olinging to inherited memories. For if this doctrine were
strictly carried out, such a country as America, where there is
a slow amalgamation of many allied and even heterogeneous
races into a new nation, would practically become impossible.
Indeed, (^orge Eliot does not absolutely hold these views.
She considers them necessary at present in order to act as a
drag to the too rapid transformations of society. In the most
interesting paper of ' Theophrastus Such,' that called ' The
Modern Hep I Hep 1 Hep I' she remarks: "The tendency of
things 13 towards quicker or slower fusion of races. It U im-
possible to arrest this tendency j all we can do is to moderate
ite course so as to hinder it from degrading the moral status
of societies by a too rapid effacement of those national
traditions and customs which are the language of the national
genius - the deep suckers of healthy sentiment. Such mod-
eratmg and guidance of inevitable movement is worthy of all
Considering that George Eliot was convinced of this modem
tendency towards fusion, it is all the more singular that she
should in < Daniel Deronda,' have laid such stress on he
reconstruction, after the lapse of centuries, of a Jewish state :
singular, when one considers that many of the most eminent
Jews, so far from aspiring towards such an event, hardlv
seem to have contemplated it as a desirable or possible
prospect. The sympathies of Spinoza, the Mendelssohns,
#r4l
DANIEL DERONDA. oilix
Indeed, to have a true conception of Jewish nature and
1^^".' fu "' ^""^"* ^^«^^ =""1 deep shadows of S
pathos, depth, sublimity, degradation, and wit oHto infin te
ZhZ:''\^''T'' ""P'^^'y for 'suffering!- one ig^
^ZTj^LT"" '^^t' ^"""^' '" 'Jehudrben!
K^rsl,-— l^Sch^^^^^^^^^^^
I^bs^'tr^frhrr^--' ^-'^^ ^-e =£
X^jrh^rscizr "^t;r i£f f r-
St *^"'*' ""'^'^ "^ PerfecSrCondatd Mi^r :^;
woud have so mixed her colors as to give us t^t subtl!
Ind iXT-wn /' f"*^ '° *^' "^"'^'^'^ of nature's making
^rraVaTauSlTrr:: ^""' ^ ^^««^«' «"- »^--'
„n™ '"°i°^ '? ""^ ^"Klish portion of the story there is at
aZr'TrF^''^ °^ spontaneity in the peopfe depi ed
Grandcourt, Gaseoigne, Bex, Mrs. Davilow, SirHugh Mat
Kvoh„?n''"f"^ ^7'"'°''"'' «'"'" *" t'^e old cuuning in
tne psychological rendering of human nah™ n • I
there is no intrinsic connection befweenthZupToeZ
clustering round Mordecai, and that of wWcf GwenL^^^-
^centre : unless it be that the author :Lhed t Thot ° h"
greater intensity of aim and higher moral worth ol the
ol
OEOBOE ELIOT.
i !
Jews as contrasted with these purposeless, worldly, unideal
Christians of the nineteenth century.
Compared with the immaculate Mirah, Gwendolen Harleth
is a very naughty, spoiled, imperfect specimen of maiden-
hood. But she has life in her; and one speculates as to what
she will say and do next, as if she were a person among one's
acquaintances. On that account most -eaders of 'Daniel
Deronda ' find their interest engrossed by the fate of Gwen-
dolen, and the conjugal relations between her and Orandcourt.
This is so much the case, that one suspects her to have been
the first idea of the story. She is at any rate its most attrac-
tive feature. In Gwendolen, George Eliot once remarked, she
had wished to draw a girl of the period. Fascinating, accom-
plished, of siren-like beauty, she has every outward grace
combined with a singular inward vacuity. The deeper
aspects of life are undreamed of in her philosophy. Her
religion consists in a vague awe of the unknown and invisible,
and her ambition in the acquisition of rank, wealth, and
personal distinction. She is selfish, vain, frivolous, worldly,
domineering, yet not without sudden impulses of generosity,
and jets of affection. Something there is in her of Undine
before she had a soul — something of a gay, vivacious, unfeel-
ing sprite, who recks nothing of human love or of human
misery, but looks down with utter indifTerence on the poor
humdrum mortals around her, whom she inspires at once with
fear and fondness: something, also, of the "princess in
exile, who in time of famine was to have her breakfast-roll
made of the finest bolted flour from the seven thin ears of
wheat, and in a general decampment was to have her silver
fork kept out of the baggage."
How this bewitching creature, whose "iridescence of charac-
ter" makes her a psychological problem, is gradually brought
to accept Henleigh Grandoourt, in spite of the promise she
has given to Lydia Glasher (his discarded victim), and her
own fleeting presentiments, is described with an analytical
subtlety unsurpassed in George Eliot's works. So, indeed,
is the whole episode of the married life of Grandcourt. This
territorial magnate, who possesses every worldly advantage
that Gwendolen desired, is worthy, as a study of character,
M f':
DANIEL DEBONDA.
eU
to be placed beside that of Casaubon himself. Gwendolen's
girlish type of egoism, which loves to be the centre of admi-
ration, here meets with that far other deadlier form of an
"exorbitant egoism," conspicuous for its intense obstinacy
and tenacity of rule, "in proportion as the varied suscepti-
bilities of younger years are stripped away." This cold, nega-
tive nature lies with a kind of withering blight on the sus-
ceptible Gwendolen. Boused from the complacent dreams of
girlhood by the realities of her married life, shrinking in
helpless repulsion from the husband whom she meant to
manage, and who holds her as in a vice, the unhappy woman
has nothing to cling to in this terrible inward collapse of her
happiness, but the man, who, from the first moment when his
eye arrests hers at the gaming table at Leubronn, becomes, as
it were, a conscience visibly incarnate to her. This incident,
which is told in the first chapter of the novel, recalls a sketch
by Dante Eossetti, where Mary Magdalene, in the flush of
joyous life, is held by the Saviour's gaze, and in a sudden
revulsion from her old life, breaks away from companions
that would fain hold her back, with a passionate movement
towards the Man of Sorrow. This impressive conception may
have unconsciously suggested a somewhat similar situation to
the novelist, for that George Eliot was acquainted with this
drawing is shown by the following letter addressed in 1870
to Dante Bossetti:
" I have had time now to dwell on the photographs. I am
especially grateful to you for giving me the head marked June
1861: It 18 exquisite. But I am glad to possess every one of
them. The subject of the Magdalene rises in interest for me,
the more I look at it. I hope you will keep in the picture an
equally passionate type for her. Perhaps you will indulge
me with a little talk about the modifications you intend to
introduce."
The relation of Deronda to Gwendolen is of a Christlike
nature. He is her only moral hold in the fearful temptations
that assail her now and again under the intolerable irritations
of her married lite, temptations which grow more urgent
when Grandcourt leads his wife captive, after his fashion, in
a yacht on the Mediterrancw, For " the intensest form of
M^
olii
OEOROE EUOT.
hatred U that rooted in fear, which oompeU to .ilence, and
driven Tehemenoe into a constructive vindictireness, ai^ im-
aginary anmh.lat.on of the detested object, something like
the hidien rites of vengeance, with which the pers^uted
have made a dark vent for their rage, and soothed their suf-
fering into numbness. Such hidden rites went on in the
secrecy ot Gwendolen's mind, but not with soothing effect -
rather with the effect of a struggling terror. Side by side
with dread of her husband had grown the self-dread which
urged her to flee from the pursuing images wrought by her
pent-up impulse." o / "'»
. The evil wish at last finds fulfilment, the murderous thought
,L°uTl^'^!^'""'; ^"^ '^""R** '^«*"' " °°' eventually ?he
result of the cnmmal desire, it yet seems to the unhappy wife
IS if It had a determining power in bringing about the catas-
trophe. But It IS precisely this remorse which is the redeem-
ing quality of her nature, and awakens a new life within her
in this quickening of the moral consciousness through euilt
we are remiuded, although in a different manner, of a similar
process, full of pregnant suggestions, described in Nathaniel
Hawthorne's 'Transformation.' It will be remembered that
Donatello leads a purely instinctive, that is to say, animal,
existence, till the commission of a crime awakens the dormant
conscience, and a soul is bom in the throes of anguish and
remorse.
' In Daniel Deronda' there is an entire absence of that rich
genial humor which seemed spontaneously to bubble up and
overflow her earlier works. Whether George Eliot's concep-
tion of the Jews as a peculiarly serious race had any share in
bringing about that result, it is difficult to say. At any rate
in one of her essays she remarks that. "The history and
literature of the ancient Hebrews gives the idea of a oeonle
who went about their business and pleasure as gravelVasa
society of beavers." Certainly Mordecai, Derond^ and Mirah
are preternaturally solemn; even the Cohen family are not
presented with any of those comic touches one would have
tfllZ •" *5",f «^* ''r°"«'; °"ly in the boy Jacob there
are gleams of drollery such as in this description of him by
Hans Meynck: "He treats me with the easiest famili^tj^
DANIEL DEROKnA.
•uu
disadvantage. w4 a ?«^k„°r '^.P"""' """"kiug on my
change in him if Alirah hann«n. I P'*"^'', ""'"gh. to «ee the
suddenly _ hi, a« ^n^flT.?- J° "'"°"' '"• «» t"™, child
r.r«liti'ah garUfu iX^«ei"p:?,\" ""^ ""'' «">
with an air of recent product?on^ ^ ^' '"" '°'*^' y"'
"had thei Httle^ddU r si'l'^''^'/ ''*"»'"^ 8"°?' "h^
mother's blood as weU ithe t^h^' ."^r.'"'*"'"'^ ^^m the
medieval houses wUhure,totel,t'« ""'^ T'""" '^'"^ "^e
this into thali flights of stens and °1 """^ T"'"!^ *«"°
the whole, instead of the oIH ^ " °""°°'"- «"' °°
Deronda-; polXd^rnnt J ^"'"'"'' '^^ ^^^ in 'Daniel
were afte^a^:^';"! rr^ullv'Tv"?""'.'" -""«--., which
Bions of Theophrastns 8u™h' ^ ^°^^ '" "•« 'I">P™»-
ingX^t^ iu^fcL^lgSnrhr ^"^ '^« ^°»-
" I don't know what you refer ^1^''°.' " '***f" ^ Mrs. Bray :
haps the report of Dr^ He7,Sn^Adlei' ff* ^'^''^^ ^"-
to the Jewish working-men ^Vent the r- ""^ °^ '^"'°"^'''
Dr. Adler whom you saw is nl V T"""" P^^^bly the
as Chief Eabbi. I Save hL»; ?,""?' ^*'^"' "«" "ving
from Jews and Jewesles^th .?.'''«''""' communicationf
the Club scene in *DD ^IstirTt '^''""^- ^"'"^
tongue through the varbus Lw* ''^"' '" "^^ "^''"'w
been copying thr'M^eI° in ^^ .^^^'P^P*"' ""ch have
sent to me U^^e mS^ 1 The/ '''"^'^''°" ^^ ^'^^
indifferent to themselves " "' ""'""^'y ^"> »»'
losophers out a el^ws so 1m, i" *''*u' °*'""" <='"'' "^ P""
in the ^or.„ij4 S^\7f8^//««"'''«d by G. H. LeCes
to detect an ^ffiity l^reen the Jew Coh7n I*""'"* °°*
sumptive journeyman watchmaker, with ht'^J ^' '=°°;
his great calm intellect, and Ezra Morfeoai Co^.n • ^°"^- "^"^
-liar conditions, the difference CtXttZ' Z'u^tl
OliT
OBOROB BLIOT.
tntod bjr the philoiophioal idea of Spinoziim, and the other
by the political idea of reoonitituting a Jewish State ia
Paleitine. This diSerenoe of mental biaa, no doubt, formi a
contrast between the two characters, without, however, invali-
dating the surmise that the fictitious enthusiast may have been
originally suggested by the noble figure of the living Jew. B«
that as it may, Lewes often took the opportunity in conver-
sation of "pointing out that no such resemblance existed,
Cohen being a keen dialectician and a highly impressive
man, but without any specifically Jewish entli fiasm."
When she undertook to write about the Jews, Oeorge Eliot
was deeply versed in Hebrew literature, ancient and modem.
She had taught herself Hebrew when translating the Leben
Jem, and this knowledge now stood her in good stead. She
was also familiar with the splendid utterances of Jehuda-ben-
Halevyj with the visionary speculations of the Cabbalists,
and with the brilliant Jewish writers of the Hispano-Arabio
epoch. She had read portions of the Talmud, and remarked
one day in conversation that Spinoza had really got something
from the Cabbala. On her friend humbly suggesting that by
ordinary accounts it appeared to be awful nonsense, she said
" that it nevertheless contained fine ideas, like Plato and the
Old Testament, which, however, people took in the lump,
being accustomed to them."
CHAPTEB XV.
LAST YEAB8.
' Daniel Debonda ' is the last great imaginative work with
which George Eliot was destined to enrich the world. It
came out in small volumes, the appearance of each fresh num-
ber being hailed as a literary event. In allusion to an au-
thor's feeling on the conclusion of a weighty task, George
Eliot remarks in one of her letters : " As to the great novel
which remains to be written, I must tell you that I never be-
lieve in future books. . . . Always after finishing a book I
liave a period of despair that I can never again produce any-
I^KT riARB.
otT
Urilf/^^w 'k'"'*" **"!. r"**- ^" «»pon.ibility of the
writer grows hwvier and heavier - doe. U not ?_ a. the
work grow, into imperiou. activity within one, that it i. doZ
Uieworld-Iineanpo..ibletoone's.elftodoit."
Thi. .rngular diffidence, arising from a .ense of the tre
mendou. responsibility which her position enU^ld wa. Z
of the most noticeable charaoteristio. of this greai w^nT
.«U„h" """^ T."^" '^'"^ '» ''°""«" -i'h her HerZ:
wientiousness made her even painfully anxious to enter sym-
U>twLn^tLt'A ^ • "" ■»'««''«"'. for "ample, as that
ftetween Goethe and Heme -where the younger poet after
«dir*'^l'5V{ ''•"'* «'"' "'■"K" to sayto G^he, wL
Zl^n?M ^ *tl"^?""' ■""* ^''™" "'^'O remarkably
reSonrwWhT"'"' "^ '^*'"* °'=^'' ^" Sunday afternoon
Zt oH^wv '*?'°! °'°"' """i """'^ fashionable as time
wwt f ■ *° *''*' ■""« snP«rfioially brilliant talk
which a promiscuous gathering brings with it Among the
PrioTmav'j'"'"'!-*" •? "*' """"' °' •-" f-1»enS; 1 th
Pnopr may be mentioned Mr. Herbert Spencer, Professor
Huxley, Mr. Frederic Harrison, Professor Bees y Dr 3
Mrs. Congreve, Madame Bodichon, Lord Houghton M
Tourgu^nief. Mr. Ealston, Sir The-ldore and Lady Martfn
Gallery, Mr. George Howard and his wife, Mr. C. G. Leland
Mr. Moncure Conwiy, Mr. Justin McCarthy, Dr. Hu^ffer Mr
and Mrs. Buxton Porraan, Mr. F. Myers, Mr. Sully Mr Du
Manner, Mr. and Mrs. Mark Pattiso^ Mr. and Mrs CHffofd
tts^M^fr/"' ''*' ''''"8'>'«"' Mr. and m's S
olvi
GEORGE ELIOT.
M
I -
Persons of celebrity were not the only ones, however, that
were made welcome at the Priory. The liveliest sympathy
was shown by both host and hostess in many young people as
yet struggling in obscurity, but in whom they delighted to
recognize the promise of some future excellence. If a young
man were pursuing some original scientific inquiry, or strik-
ing out a new vein of speculation, in all London there was
none likely to enter with such zest into his ideas as G. H.
Lewes. His generous appreciation of intellectual gifts is well
shown in the following lines to Professor W. K. Clifford :
" Few things have given us more pleasure than the intima-
tion in your note that you had a nncie. May she be the central
happiness and motive force of your career, and, by satisfying
the affections, leave your rare intellect free to work out its
glorious destiny. For, if you don't become a glory to your age
and time, it will be a sin and a shame. Nature does n't often
send forth such gifted sons, and when she does, Society usu-
ally cripples them. Nothing but marriage — a happy marriage
— has seemed to Mrs. Lewes and myself wanting to your
future."
On the Sunday afternoon receptions just mentioned, G, H.
Lewes acted, so to speak, as a social cement. His vivacity,
his ready tact, the fascination of his manners, diffused that gen-
eral sense of ease and abandon so requisite to foster an harmoni-
ous flow of conversation. He was inimitable as a raconteur,
and Thackeray, Trollope, and Arthur Helps were fond of
quoting some of the stories which he would dramatize in the
telling. One of the images which, on these occasions, recurs
oftenest to George Eliot's friends, is that of the frail-looking
woman who would sit with her chair drawn close to the fire,
and whose winning womanliness of bearing and manners
struck every one who had the privilege of an introduction to
her. Her long, pale face, with its strongly marked features,
was less rugged in the mature prime of life than in youth,
the inner meanings of her nature having worked themselves
more and more to the surface, the mouth, with its benignant
suavity of expression, especially softening the too prominent
under-lip and massive jaw. Her abundant hair, untinged
with gray, -vhose smooth bands made a kind of frame to the
LAST YEARS.
Clyii
than one of wo'Snt ThT T.^ °' ^''^^"^ '*f°'« """^
ambition to swak ZrvT ^""^^^^ l^'^ents "the general
which msZ'otltZ'ZZ T^T '°°''" ^-Klish,
slang, false foXn'^^ZZ'^^l' ^ """"Pt-S witll
crashes out all color from thlr^' f . i-'O^unoiation that
jostling conson^ts .' ^"^'' "^^ ^'"°' *''««' ' ^^<->«
observer ofhuJn" nTt^""fn.:rLi1 W '^^"^''■' "^ ''«^°
indication of the infinite^enTh of h«, !k """^^'y*'' '"'
the force of her entire ™™niT"!u^^"° """^ ''*™'=k by
clviii
OEOROE IXIOT.
.3 ! :;
m
u
deeply impressed her hearers, being enriched by such felici-
ties of expression as : "The best lesson of tolerance we have
to learn is to tolerate intolerance." In answer to a friend's
surprise that a clever man should allow himself to be con-
tradicted by a stupid one, without dropping down on him,
she remarked: "He is very liable to drop down as a baked
apple would." And of a very plain acquaintance she said :
"He has the most dreadful kind of ugliness one can be
afSicted with, because it takes on the semblance of beauty."
Poetry, music, and art naturally absorbed much attention
at the Priory. Here Mr. Tennyson has been known to read
'Maud' aloud to his friends Mr. Browning expatiated on
the most recondite metrical rules : and Bossetti sent presents
of poems and photographs. In the following unpublished
letters George Eliot thanks the latter for his valued gifts —
" We returned only the night before last from a two months'
journey to the Continent, and among the parcels awaiting
me I found your generous gift. I am very grateful to yon
both as giver and poet.
" In cutting the leaves, while my head is still swimming
from the journey, I have not resisted the temptation to read
many things as they ought not to be read — hurriedly. But
even in this way I have received a stronger impression than.
any fresh poems have for a long while given 'me, that to read
once is a reason for reading again. The sonnets towards
' The House of Life ' attract me peculiarly. I feel about
them as I do about a new cahier of music which I have been
' trying ' here and there with the delightful conviction that •
I have a great deal to become acquainted with and to like
better and better." . And again, in acknowledgment of some
photographs: "The 'Hamlet' seems tome perfectly intelli-
gible, and altogether admirable in conception, except in the
type of the man's head. I feel sure that ' Hamlet ' had a
square anterior lobe.
"Mr. Lewes says, this conception of yours makes him
long to be an actor who has ' Hamlet ' for one of his parts,
that he might carry out this scene according to your idea.
" One is always liable to mistake prejudices for sufficient
inductions, about types of head and face, as well as about all
-?!!>
LAST TEARS.
oliz
dipJL i^*^" . I """"^ i-^P'fissions - perhaps only preju-
tZ „?! r' "" '^' ""-^""ness of my e^perknce I about
It i™re'Z: "^l*'" "'""•"' *° P^»'°°=*'« expression
oal basis. But in mary particulars facial expression is like
the expressmn of hand-writing: the relations are too subtle
^^L^""*' *° "^ '''''^'' -d o^'y shallowness t
George Eliot read but little contemporary fiction bein^
usually absorbed in the study of some particular sujct^
my own spiritual good I need all other sort of read-
at^^^ ^^'' "r°v *^^" ^ "^^^ fi«''°°- I know nothing
of contemporary English novelists with the exception of — 1
mL^^r ''v^°*'- ^y '=°°^*»°t swan is that I
must leave so much of the greatest writing which the
centuries have sifted for me unread for want of time »
I'M the same reason, on being recommended by a literarv
friend to read Walt Whitman, she hesitated on'ihe S
of his not containing anything spiritually needful for her,
but, having been induced to take him up, he changed her
TC^''u'"^f'':^'\^' ^' ""^ «°°t-i^ what was^-good
for her soul." As to lighter reading, she was fond of b^oks
sLnT^ lI?»°T'"« "''^^^ Voyage of the Challenger- a
splendid boot" Among foreign novelists she was very partial
pWnTsto^rr ' '"' '"^^ "' "^' Koumiassi/e^as a
Persons who were privileged enough to be admitted to the
intimacy of George Eliot and Mr. Lewes could not fail to be
impressed by the immense admiration which they had 'or
one another. Lewes's tenderness, always on the wrtch lest
the great writer with her delicately poised health, should
r tr'*^^";''"' ^'^ ^o^^t^lng of doghke fidelity. On
the other hand, in spite of George Eliot', habitually retiring
«eamJ;t r^.w ^^"•"'.S^S^'l °° the opposite side of an
Mgument to that maintained by the brilliant savant, in
taking his part, she usually had the best of it, although in
the most gentle and feminine way.
Although there was entire oneness of feeling becween them
there was no unanimity of opinion. George Eliot had the
olz
GEOHOE KLIOT.
"1
i
ml
kighest regard for Lewes's opinions, but held to her own.
One of the chief subjects of difference consisted in their
attitude towards Christianity : whereas he was its unoom-
promising opponent, she had the greatest sympathy with
Its various manifestations from Roman Catholio^ceticism
to Evangelical austerity and Methodist fervor. Her rever-
ence for every form of worship in which mankind has more
or less consciously embodied its sense of the mystery of all
"this unintelligible world" increased with the yeaS. She
soTritwif^^H^'"'*"'*'' ^J *'^* ^^^'^^''y «f the Positivist
spirit which recognizes the beneficial element in every form
of religion, aiid sees the close, nay indissoluble, connecti->n
between the faith of former generations and the ideal of our
IZ'r,, *r -^""""^ *■"?'" ='=°P« ^" '"« °eed8 and
aspirations of her spiritual nature in the religion of humanity
ttrou.'i^ .nT ^ 'f i^^peatedly pointed out, there rui
through all her works the same persistent teaching of "the
Infinite Nature of Duty." And with Comte she refers "the
obligations of duty, as well as all sentiments of devotion
to a concrete object, at once ideal and real ; the Human Race'
conceived ^ a continuous whole, including the pwt, the
present, and the future." ^^^
Though George Eliot drew many of her ideas of moral cul-
tivation from the doctrines of Comte's PhUosophie Pcitte
she was not a Positivist in the strict sense of the word He
mind was far too creative by nature to give an unqualified
^e idr„f° '"""l' r*"" "^ ^•"°'«'«- I'"1««'J. ''O' devotion to
m^A t '?^"'""'^' """""'"""^ ^ * """^'''i^e ''hole, is not so
much characteristic of Positivists as of the greatest modern
minds, minds such as Lessing, Bentham, Shelley, Mill Maz-
tTel'etf ^T ''"«°- ^°^°""='' as'comte^io^K^d
these idea^ into a consistent doctrine, George Eliot found her-
self greatly attracted to his system ; and Mr. Beesly. after an
acquaintance of eighteen years, considered himself fjstified in
stating that her powerful intellect had accepted the teaching
of Auguste Comte, ai„i that she looked forward to le^!
organization of belief on the lines which he had laid dow^
8^.11 her adherence, like that of G. H. Lewes, was only p^Ll,"
and applied mainly to his philosophy, and not to hU ^eme
LAST TEAKa
clxi
Laffltte hnVciT ■ . ., °'»*°'»atiO'> presided over by M
Perhaps in the course of timTr''"'' °^^'' ^"""^'''^^ ^'>'^-
denoy encroached To i T ^" "0'''l«i°8 analytical ten-
HerLinen^^'^dtraLrnL-i^^^^^^^^^^^
t.ng m>ny and incisive ridicule are no lo^n^te^^^ed'S th^
clxii
GEORGE ELIOT.
One of the papers, however, that entiUed 'Debaoing the
XoSlT"^^ "^T"' """"'"i^y ""^•"''l «karaote?istio
LnHrT,^!'"*" °"°'*- " » » P''^y Potest against the
tendency of the present generation to turn the grandest deeds
and noblest works of art into food for laughter "or she
hated nothing bo much as mockery and ridicule of what other
Zltw^'T'^^.'f'"' """'''"8 '^"^ *•"""' 'ho considered
IntoZiT IT ^'°"S «»Pe"titious fancies were the most
T^nTr,, a" Tu'f *'^^ ^'"""e *° «"''l' " Pitoh that she
even disliked a book like 'Alice in Wonderland' because it
laughed at the things which children had had a kind oTb^Uef
JS'»f ="'!""°8 *••" vicious habit of burlesquing the thinus
that ought to be regarded with awe and admiration, she r^
™S !,* * ^f^^'^y buffoonery debase all historic beauty,
S '.1 ^T^" '''" '"' *''" ^'^'' °^ ^^^ ennobling emotions
wS viS."' *'''^°^ °' '"^'"°^' """^ "^« ^'"''°" °"«
8nl^°'^>*'*^*°''7"^' ^ ""^ °°'y P»P«^ i" 'Theophrastus
Such ' quite free from cynicism. It contains, under a slightly
ea Iv 1 rVr^'* ""^'^ **"'"' reminiscences of her^own
early life This volume, not published till May 1879 was
written before the incalculable loss which befell GeoSeEU^
in the autumn of the preceding year.
metf'^Jw^.'?'^'"^T'^^ '"""°" °' ^^^8'" ">« pleasant retire-
ment of Witley Lewes and George Eliot returned to London.
A severe cold taken by Lewes proved the forerunner of ^
serious disorder, and, after a short illness, this bright, many!
year ' Se ta^'^"' ''If *' ^'^'^^ '^^'^y ^ >>« ^^-ty-e-'d
year. He had frequently said to his friends that the most
desirable end of a well-spent life was a painless death; and
a^^^hough his own could not be called painless, his sufferings
l^«f t, ""^l""" ''** ^^'"^ '° '»0""> him, one may
mnl^t^ '*^' '" ^^1°^" ''°'^'' ""at "for the first sharp
pangs there is no comfort - whatever goodness may surround
us, darkness and silence still hang about our pain » In her
.:w^. LP.
I>A8T YEABS.
elxiii
glad to hear also that both in England and (trJa,;; f'h
or scheme, on which the studentohrpTs a^rl^Z ^ t'^'
-, vise ixiwiiLiio poaoea oil, and
elsir
OKOROE ELIOT.
bv surorigB hv h.. • "".f ''"'>• but her intimate circle
n.an, dating fiS^-eJjLnT.*""^ '^"' *"' ««»"«-
warmeat frlndSira^d hi, bl'n^li. I '*°. ^^^ ""° ^^
she could still find comfort dur^ni The rTmai^r IT v/'
;»^-^rarMfK' £r 0^ -i '""■
not destined to be proTongeT ^"^"'^'^^y !•" "& wa.
palffnSa^rH Lre;lrer:f S^''^^ •"" ^" "
pinessforherwhensheanVMr c"s7i^^^^^^^
settling, on their retnm, at her favTr^te „ ^ ,^„"^;^^^^^^
s'^fmeSTar ''" '*''° ^S^"' STreS K^^'
she was conCplati^g aS^rusIl IfTe'' ^l"'/""' '''''*
with her husbMid On f i^ *^i ■ . ^ -^^ dramatists
Saturday p^X concert »h'°« ^^ '^^ ^«'" ^ «"«
through'^ome'She mns^^he h«^"Hr'T'"? ^°""' P"''"'*
cold was probably S on th»T^„ T"«- ^" ^"'^
I-A8T TEARS.
0lx»
. 01x»
«"y an affection of thn i»™»-
There seeded no I« o 7«^ 7^^ '^^^'f "dvice.
'^aa unexpectedly discovered tb^tinfl^ ^'.°° Wednesday it
the heart, and LtZ2>JZ^ ^ "''"'° ^
-.dnight of the 22nd o. ZlCtl^ T'^'t ^'°'-
i>^ at precisely the same a<re^L«.. \^/''«* ^'o'- "ho
•nd painlessly away, and on Chri^t.^rp ' ^"f P'""*'" ^""%
of her death was received with II ^ '" """ announcement
J.JhesideofC^r.e^-t--«--h^^^^^^
forrarn"ntr^^r?n1eJ^- S'"^'.aes^ as uni-
On the contrary, her life f3 ?*''."'8 " """^ a^leading
Boribes an astoJ;hing,y ^/rortif T' *f '*^ """^"S' <•-
agmation from the little St^ffoiShtre viL *"."" '^'' '» '»■
"Prang, to the simple rur^s^Z ,^7"*** ''^«'«"' »>» father
and traces her histoVtrZ moment T °' ^" "'" y°"">,
ers, consisting of the m„»t !q^.- • 7^*" * """"i of mourn-
England, followed her rLerLT"^*' """" '^^ '""o- ^n
how truly eventful waTthe Kf"." T°* '""P ^^lizing
spirit the '"^ ^^« °^ her who now joined in
In mind, mj^^fty.tl '*^"
In pulM, ,t,„L , ^ *" P™*"™ : live
In deed, of daring rectitnde. ii «„m
For m„e„Me .i„. th., end i"^"
To rawer iwuei" '*""'<»'« «ge man', wmj,
1# »v
ROMOLA.
PEOEM.
M he travelled witi broad glow 2f f '"»'' •" *^« '^"■V
RMar. of Hercules, a^fr^^ Z* "" '^^ ^"»»' '° *^o
•orowaU the «no^ A^^ridl rTv""! °' "■" Caucus
the Western Isles.^^ ClrlhrJ" "" ^^^ '"^«^««> »*
and unstable sea-wZSL^ ^^ °"'"'""'' '^^ l«"d
the same valleys a. h"h„8eer^r*' """""^ "hadow. on
pine forests, ^d the b^ l'?"'^'^~'»''°"^« ""'"nts, and
rain-freshened grT-srLe?' »""'°.'''^ JOung com or
ing by the rive^d:rrn.?n;iS^T5.rj:!r "'v"""" --
on the many-curved seaooast i^V^ »«dK<>-like mastg
rise to-day. And as theS 1^,^*/."°* 'P°<» "-here they
the dwelling, of m" Yt Z ^^ tw '" .T™ P'"™"" -^
nestling chUdren, on 'the hajg^d w^T„^' ""' '"""* "^
ness; on the hasty uprisinB otttr^iJ^""" """^ ""k"
on the late sleep of the nTlt «h,^ ^ard-handed laborer, and
ing the stars or tte «S^';fi^!°'' "^"^^^ ^ question-
Wledge which wo„rei' ^J"" TV°^ *^»' ^i<lden
brirf life, and show its d^k pa^f tht " ^"^ "^ ""«'»
whither, to be an arc in im im™ ' *^*',«««a«d to bend no-
gjoT. The great ^er co^r^s ThTht' '"t "' "«^' "^^
of men have hardly chaneeT .^ i '"^ '''*P«"J t^e lives
life-currents that eb^iTw'inhLt"": °^" "'""""»' «■«
same great needs, the sameTra^n "f "^ ^"^""^ *" the
thought follows close Tthe slot °T '^^*«™'"- As our
""pressed with the bro'd sijf/tl?'* "^T' -« "e
never alters in the main h^d^^ ? ° u ^'™*" '"*• ''^ch
labor, eeed-timeandharvesjtv^i'l^^^'^'^-^-^er.nd
! ■'I
TI
" ROHOLA.
ETen If, initead of following the dim d»ybmk, our liaa>iiia-
bon P.UIM on • certain hi.torio«l spot and awaiu thefuller
morning, we my we a world-famou. oity, which hu hardly
changed lU ouUme since the dayiof Columbus, weming to
•tand as an almost unviolated symbol, amidst the flux of hu-
man tlungs, to remind us that we still resemble the men of
tte past more than we differ from them, a. the great mechani-
cal principles on which those domes and towers were raised
must make a likeness in human building that will be broader
;^ll> T'ln*^"" ^^ P""'*"'" '"'"'8«- -^""l "^o-btless, if the
spmt of a Florentme citizen, whose eyes were closed for the
ast tune while Columbus was stiU waiting and arguing for the
three poor yessels with which he was to set «iil f^m the port
tlllT'- •* "^ "*"? '""° ^^ '^^ ""i ?»<"» where our
thought u pauamg, he would believe that there must still be
his b^'ire ""^'"'"'''"8 *•" '^ """""S "« inheritors of
Let US suppose that such a Shade has been permitted to
revisit the glimpses of the golden morning, and is standing
once more on the famous hUl of San MinUto, which ovw?
looks Florence from the south.
The Spirit is clothed in his habit as he lived: the folds of
his welWined black silk garment or i««» hang in grave n^-
broken Imes from neck to ankle; his plain cloth cap" with its
teeeheUo,m long hanging strip of drapery, to serve as a scarf
in case of need, surmounts a penetrating face, not, perhaps
very handsome, but with a firm, weU-cut mouth, k^t dj-
tmotly human by a close-shaven lip and chin. It is a face
charged with memories of a keen and various life passed below
ttere on the banks of the gleaming river, and as he looks at
Uie scene before him, the sense of familiarity is so much
stronger than the perception of change, that he thinks it
might be possible to descend once more amongst the streets,
SBd take up that busy life where he left it. For it is not onlv
the mountains and the westward-bending river that he recog-
nizes ; not on y the dark sides of Mount Morello oppositeto
him, and the long vaUey of the Amo that seems to stretoh its
gray low-tufted luxuriance to the far-off ridges of Carrara;
and the steep height of Kegole, with ite crown of monartii^
•Of other famlliM ohiJ^r^ T ," *" '°°'" •* tkwn. He
JT* though Ci.?CreltT *" '" -^'^ ''•^•
.amount^ the w.11,, .„d rno!rcY.d r'!>'""'"' ''«' «"•"
dladen., hi. eye. wiU not dweU on ^»f^? 'I'^ « with . , ,;
UTe.i.tibIy to the unique towL * ""^i they are Jru.
.tem drawn tow JdTe .vu, J^ •?"''«^ft '"'«« taU (i, .„
the Old Pal«,e in .he veTii^t of t"h'^"r *""«»«'' " - -««
look, none the wor,e forS« f "** «"7-the tov>. .- ut
ri«-heu«dtow.;kSdtV"Vh:t:TH''''' •"■'" ^--'
U" the world, which, in hi. eiirlv . *l /?"' *"' «"«' -^
l^gthoughtintheLdof ai^.^y''°°t' ^'^ ''-' ""'v .
It rai<w. it, large curved, til] 'T*^; ^"'""'"•y'd aan -Uer.
wril-known belliw.r-G?ot?ta *^' ''•"•• ^^ ">c
color, and the graoeful-.pbXdrjd'.f'"''^* »'''-'
''"cS'^rtS:;^^^^^^^^^^^
rights .tand. the W dTlr^«","'o'"- ^^ ^"^ "n the
buried our famou.diSnn;f ®'^'' C'«"' '^bere we
»d fanning them w:^' Ke^ ^ ?" ""«" ""W brow.
But Santa Croc, had no .pL tt^ ^'^'" '"'' °' '«^'""-
ft>U<rf great buUding pr^?Z,t™ ''"',?^°"«'ti"'« were too
•nd marble, we had o^^^ ^7 """? ?" °"' i" 'tone
not to .peak of rapaoiou. oStieri br°iW^^?/° W for,
«h«ed territorie., and our fS t'^** '"^^^'y' «"» Pur-
w«.t. But what architect caTtte F«ti T'' r'l'* ""^
ployed to buUd that spire for^em? ul ^°w ^^^ *""■
my day, FUippo Brunelleschi or Mi^iT, "^ '^^ buUt in
TiMd .omethi^g of anotw Z^ "^ """^^ bare de-
-ffy^*°--theohrh'':f?i^° ^-t-aomething
th.^oirw^:Ko:t"dtii.t'^ r *"-• - -
wonder at the«, modem time. SvW« "^"'«" ^^'^ ''*
convenient gate, been closed? lLv'"'°"'°^*'"'«^c'<«»
t^towerahavebeenleirLat^wL'^^-ir;!:,?-^^^^^
' The i'raaclaoani.
10
ROHOLA.
entme. dweU in auoh harmony, that there are no longer oon-
jpiraoie. to bring ambitious eziles home again with armed
bands at their back? These are difficult questions: it is
««8ier and pleanuter to recognize the old than to account for
they used to be-the Ponte Veochio, least lihe other bridge,
m the world, laden with the same quaint shops where our
Spint remembers lingering a little on his way perhaps to look
at the progress of that great palace which Messer Luca Pitti
,. f«* '-building with huge stones got from the Hill of Bo-
-.1 "lose, behind, or perhaps to transact a Uttie business
Z!\^f '^*^''^"^" ^ Oltramo. The exorbitant line of
ttePittiroof u hidden from San Miniato; but the yearning
ct the old Florentine is not to see Messer Luca'i. too-ambi-
bous palace which he built unto himself, it is to be down
•inong aiose narrow streets and busy humming Piazze where
he mherited the eager life of his fathers. Is not the anxious
Totang with black and white beans stUl gotog on down there?
mo are the priori in these months, eating soberly reguUted
official dinners m the Palazzo Vecchio, with removes of tripe
^ # r^*? ?"*"•*««»' "'""""ed by practical jokes against' the
Ill-fated butt among those potent signers? Are not the siir-
nifioant banners still hung from the windows-stiii distribut^
Witt decent pomp under Orcagna's Loggia every two months?
Life had Its zest for the old Florentine when he, too, trod
fte marble stops and shared in those dignities. Hislolitios
had ,m area as wide as his trade, which stretohed from Syria
to Britain, but they had also the passionate intensity, and the
detailed practical interest, which could belong only to a nar-
row scene of cc-porate action; only to the members of a oom-
mun% shut m close by the hills and by waUs of sU mUes'
oaomt, where men knew each other as they passed in the
street, set their eyes every day on the memorials of their com-
monwealth, and were conscious of having not simply the right
to vote, but the chance of being voted for. He loved his hon-
^.5" # it «»"'^,."'« '""'■«»8 ot his comiting-house, of hi«
guild, of the public councQ-chamber; he loved hU enmities
' N .w Boboli.
^I»^.
^;^i;' '
PROXH.
been a golden florin. He loZ J°^^ !!!'"^ ""« « i* had
good aUi«.ee, and went hil^i^ 1 ^^T ''''' '"^"y ''^ »
eyes after concluding a satiaW^ ^P^"°' "S^^' i» W«
daughter under hi, fa'o^tf^ln ^•°'"'^« *« his son w
Wed his gan.e at he„ undlrttT™^ f ' '^''"'"« -°lj he
jest, and even his coarse iot. . ^^ ^°*8'^ «d his bitin*
fnan eligible for the hi'gVesf la^Tl'*"'"? ^^^ ^^'^ »' •
Insight into all sorts o/ s^aVTlTh^; ^ ^"^ '^'"'^ »°
been of the " Ten " »»,„ "'^ ■°<1 abroad: he hsui
"%bt" who'tU^nr Siis. ^^-'' o' *^^
Signori who were the headV^f d^^Plme, of the Priori or
be had even risen to th^LrL^L T^" 8°'««»'enti
bad made one in embassies to th?P ^ ? Gonfaloniere; he
and he had been oom^ ^ to^^f rjT"^ *° ""^ Veneti«sl
he, directing the ingloS.l!l^ hired army of the Repub-
died of brave breast wS '^""'.T'"' « ''hich no m^
fells and trampling, S^'''tr '^t^T^'"* ""^yo'casu^
truet men with^t bittem^s w """^ ^^^'^ ^^'^ *<> dis-
rf skill, but not deTd to ir^52°:i't'"!^^»«*^«
handed honor. For the wt! ? ?* ^*""™ ""d clean-
entertain conflicting I'tite L°d ^ i^J''"'"'' "^-^ '-■"
with much impartillity It w«T '^"'"^^'^'y opinions
was duly tinctu':^wi| ttf CS'^v' '""''•^' «'«* ^'
not altogether with the T^lgarTt fn h " "«*' »°'^ J^^ged
eients: he, too, in his pr^fhid Ml ^T^ '"^ '^o «^
wot manuscripts, and Cuaid^ '^V?'* *"' tl" aost cor-
and for disinto^^ busU of^the Sf °™"' '°^ •^'"'^^^ ^'^
haps, <„,„«. ^,.fj^ wanting arto7h«t'°°'^'-^°'"<^ P«^
auftentic; and in his old age he h!^ ™-h T' *"" ""' «>• less
fi«t sheets of that fine Homer whinT "'""*" '°'""" «»«
glones of the Florentine pZ Bu LT. '^°°* *'"• ««ly
neglected to hang up a w^en L. l^"^ "°'' ^°' aU that
der the protection ot th"T"dolT/' '''"'"'' °' ^'°'»''« "-^
ance for his sins in large gSt^th r'""^ °' '» "J" P«n-
hves had not been Sfedl th^^:^/""'/ »' ""^^^ whose
had not even neglected making uSr^r^ °' *^' "'"""'i ^^
•nga for the Frati, against ^^^..'ZZa'Z^ ^^
mM.^
iiMriii
u
BOHOLA.
I,
For the Unseen Powers were mighty. Who knew-who
was suT»-th»t theie was any name given to them behind
which there was no augry force to be appeased, no inteioes-
■ory pity to be won? Were not gems medicinal, though thev
only pressed the finger? Were not aU things charged with
occult virtues? Lucretius might be right-he was an ancient,
and a great poet; Luigi Pulci, too, who was suspected of not
beUeving anything from the roof upward (dal tetto in «,). had
very much Uie air of being right over the supper-table, whan
the wme and jests were circulating fast, though he was only a
poet m the vulgar tongue. There were even learned person-
ages who maintained that Aristotle, wisest of men (unless,
mdeed, Plato were wiser?), was a thoroughly irreligious phiC
opher; and a liberal scholar must entertain all speculations.
But the negatives might, after all, prove false; nay, seemed
manifestly false, as the circling hours swept past him. and
turned round with graver faces. For had not the world be-
come Christian? Had he not been baptized in San Giovanni,
where the dome is awful with the symbols of coming iudn-
ment, and where the altar bears a crucified Image disturbing
to perfect complacency in oneself and the world? Our re-
suscitated Spirit was not a pagan philosopher, nor a philoso-
phizmg pagan poet, but a man of the fifteenth century, inher-
iting Its strange web of belief and unbelief; of Epicurean
levity anufetiohistic dread; of pedantic impossible ethics ut-
tered by rote, and crude passions acted out with chUdish im-
pulsiveness; of inclination toward a self -indulgent paganism.
«md inevitable subjection to that human conscience i^ch. in
the unrest of a new growth, was filling the air with stranm
prophecies and presentiments.
He had sraUed, perhaps, and shaken his head dubiously, as
he heard simple folk talk of a Pope AngeUco, who was to oime
by and by and bring in a new order of things, to purify the
Church fnin simony, and the lives of the clergy from scandid
—a 8taf« of affairs too different from what existed under In-
nocent the Eighth for a shrewd merchant and politician to
regard the prospect as worthy of entering into bis calcula-
tions. But he felt the evils of the time, nevertheless; for he
was a man of publio spirit, and public spirit can never b«
PROEM. J3
churohes, wh^ their fXoL^aweT'uEr" "^ *"'
and sickness. The Prate Papr,,.TK- J ^".^^''"K ^rom want
for elderly ears- vet iV^f»l I'l "f*™"* "^'^^ *°° '^
-ove hU^^^rt^^: ra"p!KaVSV°^''P'«~''>»
off their ornaments, and deMv^rpH h? '^'"°'"' *"*" *°°k
benefit of the n«^;. ""* '^"^ "^ *° "« «°''l *«' the
e^iaiiy Rj ^SLTxizt'^^zr'i
LorZrJl. ^ ^- f " ^*^ ^^fi""* """i ""ft. though, to
STmIo Stattrref^^ "1 ^^^ *^« ^^"^ --^^ ot
^^on, aire:^;„^rrssrcr,:f; Tizn
MirLr^ch^rrirbsS
oions that his handsome son woid play tte part of ^ifnr^'"
-TTit. M,.-;"- r.,-s^c
vruu uoos not pay on a Saturday."
14
ROHOLA.
fiery phUcMopher is lecturing on Dante in the Daomo, and
gomg home to write bitter inTeotives against the father and
mother of the bad critic who may hare found fault with hia
classical spelling? Are our wiser heads leaning toward alli-
ance with the Pope and the Eegno,' or are they rather inclin-
ing their ears to the orators of France and of Milan?
"There is knowledge of these things to be had in the
streets below, on the beloved marmi in front of the churches,
and under the sheltering Loggie, where surely our citizens
have still their gossip and debates, their bitter and merry jests
!f , L ^/*' "* °°* *^* weU-remembered buUdings aU
mere t The changes have not been so great in those uncounted
years. I will go down and hear— I will tread the familiar
pavement, and hear once again the speech of Florentines "
Go not down, good SpiritI for the changes are great and
the speech of Florentines would sound as a riddle in your
ears. Or, if you go, mingle with no politicians on the marmi,
or elsewhere; ask no questions about trade in the Oalimara-
confuse yourself with no inquiries into scholarship, official or
monastic Only look at the sunlight and shadows on the
grand walls that were buUt solidly, and have endured in their
grandeur; look at the faces of the little children, making an-
other sunlight amid the shadows of age; look, if you wUL into
the churches, ;^d hear the same chants, see the same images
as of old-the imag^- of wUling anguish for a great e^of
beneficent love and ascending glory ; see upturned living faces,
and lips moving to the old prayers for help. These things
have not changed. The sunUght and shadows bring their old
beauty and waken the old heart-strains at morning, noon, and
eventide; the little children are still the symbol of the eternal
marriage between love and duty; and men still yearn for the
reipi of peace and righteousness— still own that life to be the
highest which is a conscious voluntaiy sacrifice. For the
Pope Angelico is not come yet.
StlS' °*™ *'™° *" ^"^^ ^^ "^ °' dUtinotlon uaosg the Italian
BOOK L
CHAPTER I.
THB 8HIPWHECKED STRAlromi.
rarely thread^ by (ieTrTo! ^, '*'"'"' ""> ^<^^ "oW
for ascertain seyZl^^X^ro^'.^' Z" '"'r"* ^
tion: ■^ *^ aoor place, bearing Uiis insorip-
<JUI NACQUK IL DIVIiJO POBTA.
quarrels and broad iests nf w~.i „ JT^ • ^^ "•: lustorioal
i". quarter. Of g^CtlZ'-a" " ""' "'°""-P'«'-
i4S:to ti°e ri^x'^fiT'''^ °^''"' ^*^ °^ ^p-^
Btcoping slightly, and l^lS'downta^d S T" T '"
T''-^^<iin;s^^^rtbi.\ro:;T^Cw '^^^"•
haired, broad-shouldered man, of the t^^wK^t-" !!,^»^-
phrase, is moulded with the fist and M^?t "."•''' "" ^""""^
"e; but the »l^in.porta„t Sv^wSh had"'''.*'' ?'""■
out in the deep lines about h i, T . "^ vrntteu itself
tended to oorre^ s^T^^l \'' ^'""^ ^^^ '"""'J' see-ned in-
workmanshipThi:^^rtt7rarb::S;r" 't "^^ '"^'^
He had deposited a large welTfi II «J^ '"' ^'* "*«""■
the paveme^ and befo™ l^m h ^' .'?'^' °^ ■"""«• °»
ni-hed partly'with Si woilntlf. ^If » '?'>''«'? «-
1 o-jva us tareaa and
M
BOHOLA.
I
i 5
piM, and partly with fragments of glass, which had probably
bera taken in exchange for those commodities.
" Young man," he said, pointing to a ring on the finger of
Uie rechnmg figure, " when your chin has got a stiffer crop on
It, you U know better than to take your nap in street corners
with a ring like that on your forefinger. By the Holy 'van-
gels I If It had been anybody but me standing over you two
minutes ago-but Bratti Ferraveoohi is not the man to steal
The oat couldn't eat her mouse if she didn't catch it aUve"
tod Bratti couldn't relish gain if it had no taste of a bargain
Why, young man, one San Giovanni, three years ago, the
Saint sent a dead body in my way-a blind beggar, with his
cap well lined with pieees-but, if you'll believe me, my
•tomach turned against the money I'd never bargained for
tiU It came into my head that San Giovanni owed me the
fv^^i"' ^ ** ^ "P*°"^ y*"^y »' *^« ^«»ta! besides, I buried
the body and paid for a mass-and so I saw it was a fair bar-
^. But how comes a young man like you, with the face of
Messer San Michele, to be sleeping on a stone bed with the
wind for a curtain? "
The deep guttural sounds of the speaker were scarcely intel-
hgible to the newly waked, bewildered listener, but he under-
stwd the action of pointing to his ring : he looked down at it,
and, with a half-automatic obedience to the warning, took it
off and thrust it within his doublet, rising at the same time
and stretchmg himself.
"Your tunic and hose match ill with that jewel, younif
man » s^d Bratti. deliberately. "Anybody might ^ay thf
samts had sent j«n. a dead body; but if you took the jewels,
I hope you buried him-and you can afford a mass or two for
him mto the bargain."
Something like a painful thrill appeared to dart through th«
frame of the listener, and arrest the careless stretching of his
arms tod chest. For an instant he turned on Bratti with a
sharp frown; but he immediately recovered an air of indifiEer-
ence, took off the red Levtotine cap which hung like a neat
purse over his left ear, pushed back his long dark-brown curls,
tod glancing at his dress, said, smilingly—
"You (peak truth, friend: my garments are aa weather-
THE SHIPWRECKED SnUNOER 17
the »in. The fact is, Fm a »^„ '"^."^i^"' ««* « weU as
I came ia foo.«,e last^ht, itX^ f °"""^ '"'» '^«°
comer of this hoepit8bleno,.w f ^ ^'°8wg myself »»
oh«>oe hostelry, wh^h LS,f ^ ""''"^ -^^ '<"^' f<" a
« Florentine ca/Cu a C'^°"V° ^'^^ » Christian and
fe>» Genoa? More liely JZV ""^f ^'"you'renot
clothes?" "'"'y *'°'" ^»'oe. bv the cut of your
"At this present moment," said ♦),« .*,
» of less importance where I c^e ft„Th *'\'"""'"8' "''
to for a mouthful of breakftLr Thu . ^, ^^*'"' ^ '^'^ 8°
grim look on me just here^t ?'^ °^ y"""" *"«"«
niore lively quarter where I „. ^? "^"^ '"» ""« '"? to a
"That f c^si^^'sZiTSl:'^'^ ""J -^ '°<i8^8?"
young man, that I hare happ;neS^to L ^.t"' ^°°^ *°'*"°«'
rezzano this morning, and ta^«H ^7»""»8 i" from Bo-
Vecohio to say rive^^ tStT t."^ '"'^ **» '^«™»t°
good fortune. ^But it re^aiS to ^^^ ^'."^ -^ -y- " ^o-"
the matter, ifothing for^tw„ !^ ''''^' " "y P'ofit in
yon the way to Mere4, VecXt^',5r* '"'^- " ^ "^'^^
•«Bt to let me have the biS.%St "^^^ ^"^ P»*~»
whjmyou«.t better-ard^uS^^^^^^
abetter lining to ^ a^Ll'm^i^';^:^^^^
burst out in loud ha«h . "''' °*f ^ J*" "Ply, and
Kiting of a Si . °A? r/ """'" ''"' ""^ting ^d
" It's worth but little •'^/.f-^'^ '"^*'? " '
conver«,tional Lni ^ir^d r^^' ^'''"^^^^
»orth but little. Still if wl '^^*"' ^'"" ''^°*^<"> a"
ii.nn.- ' « you ve a nund to sxt vn 1* .-_
"J><w-^.u.„ciunger.^ "roken gUs.. „r old Ir„n;r' "^
18
ROXOU.
I i
-, I
, I' ?
with k lata worth more thkn tar naw nn. «. -stv
Wrvt'm?:H ^5"""^ '^ P"^-^' it', not a XS
uau me stock. CAtaiiaratta—iaratta^-i'raUa? And
SriLr^S„:',r ^ ^- -«• ^-, an/wi.;.. ytJ
in exchange for that infSnnationT " °°*^* y"*
" Well, weU; a Florentioe doesn't mind biddina a fair t,h«-
hr rit'' K ?<f.^ "°'^'' -^ "'"- though he'ma?^"^
Aose by It If I take you to the prettiest damsel in the Mai!
^Nt'^Wr/rf -**"* wiH be a fair b ~g«".''' """"
£tA^hoS^;^S-£c:^
"Ahl young man," said Bratti, with a sidewav irhmfl. of
some adm^tion, «'you were not bom of a CZ-STiJ
shops were open when you came into the world Yo^renrt
Cin f I . °" "" *'y^» *° °"^e Florence as hot sL
Spam for those dogs of hell that want to get aU the nmfif ^
usury to themselves and leave none for Chri tW anTwh»
rittilf' ^f ""-^^'tk » Pi-eof yello^fjth ii;^~
Z sm^^L""^: eTeeStr "^J ''^'"'"-' ""^
5sSr^-i--^--cSsS
-blessed be his name, and send me a sight of him this day (
tikt
THE SHiPTniBCKID STRANOEa
1-Ppen.nottooonoemme I.' ?^»'u"*'°^yj "but "
"See, nowl" said B^i*; <!?""'. ^•''"''•"
»ood bargain with^'.^^^oM.rr'^.''^' "^'^' »»''• •
tbing, young man, thrush ^u'^ !! T^AV"'.'^^^ °'" «""-
Pwy. San Giovanni Cv^^, "hr J^ *" '"'''* " » 1»»-
fop two one-eyed men bTw ' """* ^'°"»'«« « a match
Tbey had now eme«JtmWL"^ "" """ ^•'"•*°"
piazza, known to the^er^o™ .""•"'**' '"*° » broad
Veoohio, or the Old ^ket tlf ""' '"*t" *" "" hereto
tke «=ene of a prov^U^tP'*^ "'.""Sb it had been
"u.y. perhaps, "ay. fond°Z2rj~" *'"•« "".memorial, and
the Fesulean anoeators of tUmn^l- *^* ''*"7 »P°' *« ''hioh
high fastness to tr^o with ^T™ « ' ^T^^"^ '~» their
bad not been ah^ed „ a nllnf ^^•"i"**°"°'""'^«^l''y.
wealth. In the early deed's rfth/.?"'T ^^ ^'°«»"i»«
was now near its end Z wl ^^i**'"** """'"y. which
ilies of the^<^ Li'JJi? ^f '«' *°d other powS fa^.
l.onse.ther^Tot;,rCrCn°rr"^ "°^^*y' ^'"» ^beir
the lond roar of mingled dS^ t t.f" """"' "'^'"'^'^ by
by th<. butchers' stalls, wh oh th» u" °^^' """"b shocked
counts a chief rioA T rfZ. v^ ^ "'"^ ^^ -^tonio Pucci ac-
eclipsed the Si^ftTtte elT,^'? *'»'^ ^ '"" «*~-.
mutton and veal (well attesS to^ ^t\ ^"' ""• 8'°'^ »'
«;alsi for were not the S wiS ^l^'Y ""^ "«''' «■"
diaplayed, according to the dec^ of t^ J'S*'*' ''"«"^'"^' ""'7
now wanting to the Mercatl tortil^/. 8?°""?) '^o" J"*
over. The proud corporatL 0?^^°',,^,^°'"°' ''"» ^'^
abeyance, and it was \he greit hart!'t.til T.^"" '"^ ^
gardeners, the cheesemonRera U,e vlT , °* '''^ °'»'^''t-
eggs, milk, and dried fS 'a 7),. ." °^ ""acaroni, corn,
the women's voices pS^j/a^tX'^f "" 'P' *^ ""^«
seasons there was th« IT^ • . . *'^^ "borus. But in all
the ehinkinjr.V ''Z;^C jTe^"^ ^ '^'^ P-^'
cheapness at the old-,lothes8ta^^th!' f **«""?*«« offers of
the vaunHng of new likens an'^ti^'^/r'^ '"" '^''"'"''
ware, kettles, and frvin,, n.l ZT ' °* ""e^ent wooden-
narmw ,„i.JJ^?i^"'8 Pausi there was the ohofcin" "f t.K=
■.-^...a.^ai^audcarts, together with muchMcom-'
90
HOUOLi..
tT^T^f"^' ""- could' i^i^'bT^i^^Sru".:
A.^1,.^ houBdiolder. could well pietu4 to thtmM^
n ght be Men here by any chance open-air speotat^tt. „^
r Mon""' '"^ '"^^"^ «.crbi«*£;:
"K TadMl ohl puda oon gran aofll,
B beMemmltr colla mano alia maaoella,
X rioever e dar di molil lagoffliii '
l^stUl aiere waa the relief of prettier rights: thera ««•
teood-rabbit., not le.. innocent and MtonUhTtLrftoTS
our own period, there were dove, and ainging ^TT^l
bought «, present, for the children, there w^ .v^ kitt«!
tt^ Jj^^t"" "^^ *" """""8; ind, better thw^.
ttere were young .ofUy rounded cheeks and brieht evM.
freriiened by the start from the far-off oasfaJIo ■ ^aTiH^
S^„T ^J^^ ■""'' •" *™ "»^«' <l»ito wanting in aZ«
of human industry. Andhigh on a pUlar in thecLtoe^Z
pl.0.-. venerable pUlar, fetched f~n. the ChXh of^
G.oy«mi-stood DonateUo's stoa. statue of HeZ with^
fflarltet freshened their utensils, and iheir throats also- not
because they were unable to buy wine, iut 1«Zm Ui^r^h^
to save the money for their husbands ^ *^
But on this particular morning a sodden change seemed to
have come over the face of the iMrket ThVS/?, ! „
riSdrth^^ '^'^' '^*^ '^'" ^^^orod'S
«d already there were purchasers assembled, on the alert to
tionable butter. But when Bratti and hi. oompujon^^
> Walled vtllagg.
rai SHiPwiutonD btraitobi
for tS^omen^'Kott thT.l^r °° """"""Potion I«d
•rfi.^ from their pdl * 'J"". "^ V ''"^«« «^
taraed their b«k. on Ihei, S^nd W °' """ *^^' ^
Wker. who were ooncentratK^l?*^ ^T."* ""» '^°'« »'
"> the pi«zfc A vender of old 1^ <" \* ''"'"•'"* Poin**
ont a pair of long hoee hi^ h .. ?^?^ ^ ""■ «* »' «"wginK
cheesemonger, with • piece of^h,^!^ *""P' "» oratorio*!
^theother. w„ Wu'L^ JlS^.^nr'Tt •'"'*• '"^
pause, on that exoeUent sJc^^f ^'°* '"'• •°'P»«««
;narket^omen, with their eg^CretaiTtr"^' "^^ "^^"^J
Powtion, contributed » wailiLT^ , • dangerously obliqui
In this genenu distrltSf tfeo 'r°*\"°''-
never wanting in any BtreTllJiT^"''' ^''' ''i" '">»•
«ni«.hierou. «.rt-a. who^uW «rf" °' •" -P~''^^r
-Mw • great opportunity So„T:,J^ •"" ''"^' ^"deed
«Dd dried figs, oth~f;;red 1 f ' "^ ** ^J" ""*•
the cooked provision .tSineli^ilT'T"'' •**'^'«~'''« 'k
*oot«ldog,ai«,, whohadle^tn:i° ^J?'"^ ^'^^ ^"^
applied a discriminating ^tril.^.u""*^^ *° I*"**"* 'are.
•nnoh rapidity under tCnJ^^C^ «>« .disappeared wlS
without K,me kicking and IT' J? *"'' ''''"• **>• mules, not
w«. .tretching thei/m^LS^*d tte7 ''"^^« "^"^
•Diavolol" «ad Bratti. „ hri^\'"'°*'*''«««n-meaT
qmte ^noticed, upon the no"y.ee"e "'^rv^"" '«"«'
•• mad as if the most Holy Fath/r hi-, *^*"»*° ^ S""'
■««>. I must know what tLf J S'f """"^unicated n,
• ttouwnd year, to you tih yZ 1 tf« "tll^i'"-' '* "«"»
jour cup of milk; bit keen houTf ^""^ ^'**> "^d 8^
«»^. Remember, i^?o have 4^' Tti'" ^"'"^ '^ "J
•PeoiaUyfor the hose, wwfh ^th .11 7.' ^'^ ^^yureuit;
bert|H,„„»rff j,„rt<,_i "^'';^'^ «J1 the«^ are the
wwther stains." ^^ * asrumed, though, with mud and
oldwi^Tt^rTteideTthT'^'^ *^^« towards.
JHoment had suspendTht wail ;^LTr' ^"^^ ''""^"''^
la her ear: "Here are Z Im ""^ ""* "houting close
ofpar^ey.. , «., -.'^^J^^es u^s. J,^^,^,^
u^M^v^xisiM^uj^miimmrM.
maocon iboiutkin tbt chart
(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHAUT No. J)
1.0
I.I
IM
111
1.8
M^t^
A
•IPPLlEa lf\/HGE Inc
leU East M»n StrMi
Rochntvr. H«w Yorli U609 USA
(716) 4«2 - 0300 - Phoo«
(7ia) 28B - was - Fw
23
BOHOLA.
"Monna Treooa'' (eqiiivalent to "Dame OreengTocer'^
turned round at this unexpected trumpeting in her right ear,
with a half-fierce, half-bewildered look, first at the speaker, ^
then at her disarranged commodities, and then at the speaker
again.
" A bad Easter and a bad year to you, and may you die by
the sword I " she burst out, rushing toward her stall, but di-
recting this first volley of her wrath against Bratti, who, with-
out heeding the malediction, quietly slipped into her place,
within hearing of the narrative which had been absorbing
her attention ; making a sign at the same time to the younger
stranger to keep near him.
"I tell you I saw it myseU," said a fat man with a bunch
of newly purchased leeks in his hand. " I was in Santa Ma-
ria Novella, and saw it myself. The woman started up and
threw out her arms, and cried out and said she saw a big bull
with fiery horns coming down on the church to crush it. I
saw it myself."
" Saw what, Goro? " said a man of slim figure, whose eye
twinkled rather roguishly. He wore a close jerkin, a skull-
cap lodged carelessly over his left ear as if it had fallen there
by chance, a delicate linen apron tucked up on one side, and
a razor stuck in his belt. " Saw the bull or only the woman? "
"Why, the woman, to be sure; but it's all one, mi pare;
it doesn't alter the meaning — va/" answered the fat man,
with some contempt.
"Meaning? no, no; that's clear enough," said several
voices at once, and then followed a confusion of tongues, in
which " Lights shooting over San Lorenzo for three nights to-
gether " — " Thunder in the clear starlight " — " Lantern of the
Duomo struck with the sword of St. Michael" — "Palla"^
— "All smashed" — "Lions tearing each other to pieces" —
"Ah I and they might well" — " Boto' caduto in Santitnma
Nunziata I "—" Died like the best of Christians "— " God will
have pardoned him " — were often-repeated phrases, which shot
■ Arms of the Medici.
' A votive image ol Lorenzo, In wax, hong up in the Church o{ the
Anuunziata, supposed to have fallen at the time of his death. Boto is
popular Tuscan for Voto.
THE 8HIPWBECKBD STRANGEB.
ijraui, who, as a newcomor, was bnsv i„ .„. i Ti ° .
iis waxen imaee in thn -Wn,,,;-* * ri V^ , ^apw"y, "and
them. Ahl a 8^t n>^ ^T'^^' ""^^ ^•'«' «°^te<i
a diet of hfy toT^e ofwj^^ „*° "^ J°» r' "°.*??°! ''"'
etS-^oS'ra.^^ ^^^ -^'eLdTas" 4r:drMt!
M
ROUOLA.
r'l-
i i
aiid the philosopher by tums-Usten to bawdy gongs at 21
Camiva^ ai.4 cry ' BeUissimil '-and listen to s^red fau^ ^d
Zr^r" ?«"^»^!'' B"* this is what you loveT^u
^ble and raise a not over your suattrini biancW ^whit^
h^^f \' "but you take no notice when the public treasu^
drams. You like to pay for footmen to walk before and be-
hmd one of your citizens, that he may be affable and conde-
to march before him with the drawn sword flasLg L o^
eyes 1— and yet Lorenzo smiles at us. SVhat Boodnesa I ' i«^
you think the death of aman, who would S"' ^^^J
and bndled you as the Sforza has saddled and bridled ^Z
you think his death is the scourge God is warning you 7by
^rtents. I tell you there is another sort of scoSrge in the
JlZtl',. °*^' ®f ^'°°^ }^^ '^^^^ y°" pontics, and never
mount your proph«iy; politics is the better horse," said Nell"
But If you bUk of portents, what portent can be greater th^
a pious notary? Balaam's ass was nothing to it » ^""^
«i/Z; \T "°*^/"* °f '"'rt, with his ink-botUe dry,"
aaid another bystander, very much out at elbows. «Be^
iZL^» '^' '""' everybody will believe in y^
The notary hmied and left the group with a look of indig-
fZ X r^ disclosmg as he did so, the sallow but mild
face of a short man who had been standing behind him and
whose l^nt shoulders told of some sedentary occupation. '
By San Giovanni,. though," said the fat purchaser of leeks
with the air of a person rather shaken in his theories, «ram
not sure there isn't some truth in what Ser Cioni says. For
I know I have good reason to find fault with the ouattHni
JjanMt myself. Grumble, did he say? Suffocation 1 I Sd
thmk we do grumble, and, let anybody say the word, I'll tun.
out mto the pmzza with the readiest, stiner than have ^
money altered in our hands as if the magistracy were so mZ
necromancers. And it's true Lorenzo might have^S
Jl :
THE 8HIPWHZ0KED STRANG131. 25
to iti for the matter ofXt 'it ^. k ""^ ** °""y "^^^gf
taxe, than we think Swhl^^L^'I^"-"™ *<> do with iTe
whi^;^Ul-^ri;<^~'';^^J^e^W. «Wh„
one sentence, it were mere bChe^T^ *'?T '"""^K" «*»
jniraoulous buU means eyervZ. T^ T ^ ^''«^« *»"»* your
IJtes it to mean." «^*^«^g that any man in Ko^m
.i.oJprmin:»,xreS';v^^ "»«-"-• --•i-
Girolamo, with his yi«^„' t^^^^'^ *» i™, your Pra
after the wind of MoSuo^i"*-P«^«o-»> i« mnn^g
tke to have the fate of oertSn . ■ °*t ''^° ^°"<"' I'i"' ari
the se^or some hot^r ^S^ '^l^.^ „^^' ^ headlong i.t
* »««> in one ear, and Sa^ !)•«„«• ^ Itomemoo roarinB
other, what is a poor l^S^t^^^"^^« * •^'^'' « «>«
•"Ited? But it's pto orooro herr^"^"'" ^^ ^^'^ ^^^i'
""nated, for he alreadHees ^at th k fT"^* *° »>« i"""
homs means first himself anH . ^° ''"" ^''^ **« Aamine
^payors of FlorS, 5hr«rdS'^.t """^ »««^-^
tojpy on the first oppoknnL"^ •^'*"'"^«'i *<> gore the magis-
Goro is a fool I" nai/ ., t,
dropped like the sound rf a Ir^u^'^' T*^ » ■">*« that
*^?. "I-ethimcanyhoiShL^^^l"' ^^"^'l^t of much
over his wool-beating. wrm''!^''^«°d shake his flanks
than by showing hE tun-shawlL""'^'.'""" *^*^ay
everybody might measure hK«^^^ V^" ^^^ as tf
paunch. The burdens ttat harm LT' '{ ''' "^^ "^ ^^
oawass and his idleness." "^ '"°*' are his heavy
The speaker had ioinn.! ti,«
26
ROMOLA.
W
for whom all tha world instinotively makes way, as it would
for a battering-ram. He was not much above the middle
height, but the impression of enormous force which was con-
veyed by his capacious chest and brawny arms bared to the
shoulder, was deepened by the keen sense and qriet resolu-
tion expressed in his glance and in every furrow of his cheek
and brow. He had often been an unconscious model to Do-
menioo Ghirlandajo, when that great painter was making the
walls of the churches reflect the life of Florence, and transkt-
ing pale aerial traditions into the deep color and strong lines
of the faces he knew. The naturally dark tint of his nkin
was additionally bronzed by the same powdery deposit that
gave a polished black surface to his leathern apron : a deposit
which habit had probably made a necessary condition of per-
fect ease, for it was not washed oft with punotiUous regu-
larity.
Goro turned his fat cheek, and glassy eye on the frank
speaker with a look of deprecation rather than of resentment.
"Why, Niccol6," he said in an injured tone, "I've heard
you sing to another tune than that, often enough, when you've
been laying Ac wn the law at San Gallo on a festa. I've heard
you say yourself that a man wasn't a mill-wheel, to be on the
grind, grind, as long ts he was driven, and then stick in his
place withoot stirring when the water was low. And you're
as fond of your vote as any man in Florence— ay, and I've
heard you say, if Lorenzo "
" Yes, yes," said Niocol6. "Don't you be bringing up my
speeches again after you've swallowed them, and handing
them about as if they were none the worse. I vote and I
speak when there's.any use in it: if there's hot metal on the
anvil, I lose no time before I strike; but I don't spend good
hours in tinkling on cold iron, or in standing on the pave-
ment as thou dost, Goro, with snout upward, like a pig under
an oak-tree. And as for Lorenzo— dead and gone before his
time— he was a man who had an eye for curious ironwork;
and if anybody says he wanted to make himself a tyrant, I
say <Sia; I'U not deny which way the wind blows when
every man can see the weathercock.' But that only means
that Lorenzo was a crested hawk, and thero are plenty of
.'m.
^:::x9mJT'm^.'m-
"THB SHIPWHUCKID BTHANQER.
that Marzooco ' might ah^rti.^ "' "' * "*1 "fo'n>, «o
of dipping his healt! Sthe Lr/rl^r »«*^' ^"^^"^
-o„gthetooliU3eJrr„r.:t"\« '^ r^-aS
toon ,B oomiog, aad the scourgrf. a't hln? T.°^ *"'"^''-
Church is purged of oardinaUsld n~i ^ /"'' "^^n ">•
Inheritance that their ha^d^ La^ be'^Slt '''"' '?^'' ^ ^«
Wood and to satisfy their ownTstT tl^ s^ ^''^,^'' P™« "'
too-and Florcnoe'^wiU be^uSo^ ™.^. "'",•* P"8ed
avarice and lechery under tte^reThat a^r.^"^" >'"' *° "««
it gives them the soreenof . 1 v^? *** "''" because
own." ""**» °* » "'o™ hellish vice than thei^
"Ay, as Goro's broad bodv wouM k« .
row person in case of missZ .CdVl,* "".fr *°' ""y ""■
oeUent screen haprsaedtofln f «"'»! "but if that ex-
enough. That i^ no td £1 J?,' ""^^ ""<'«' i'. "-"e^y
of the Frate's, for I W^S!! .* '^"'«' ^"">i-or, rather,
«iedof theoomingtoetT^f-^f^ A''b<'* -^"""^i" Proph^
Girolamo has gof the mes^ge^t^h'^'H^T '"'' "°' ^
work of thine m^M thynSso /f *"* P'«»We tailor's
thy eyeballs can see naught X'e th« J-^ v"^* ""^ ^«8«' "^at
roof of thy own skull '' * *^* stitohmg-board but the
The .tone Lion, emblem of the Bepubllo. ^
" BOHOLJl
n%. But Niooott gave him no opportonity for replying; tor
he turned away to the pursuit of his market boaineis, prob-
ably considering further dialogue as a tinkling on cold iron.
Miene," said the man with the hose round his neck, who
htd lately migrated from another knot of talkers, "they are
safest who cross themselves and jest at nobody. Do you
know that the Magnifioo sent for the Frate at the hist, and
couldn't die without his blessing?"
" Was it so— in truth? " said several voices. " Yes, yea-
God will have pardoned him." "He died like the best of
Christians. " " Never took his eyes from the holy crucifix."
" And the Tmte will have given him his blessing? "
"Well, I know no more," said he of the hosen; "only
Guooio there met a footman going back to Careggi, and he
told him the Frate had been sent for yesternight, after the
Magnifico had confessed and had the holy sacraments."
"It's likely enough the Frate wiU tell the people something
about it in his sermon this morning; is it not true, Nanni?"
said Goro. " What do you think? "
But Nanni had already turned his back on Goro, and the
group was rapidly thinning; some being stirred by the im-
pulse to go and hear "new things" from the Frate ("new
ttings" were the nectar of Florentines); others by the sense
that It was time to attend to their private business. In this
general movement, Bratti got close to the barber and said,—
" Nello, you've a ready tongue of your own, and are used to
worming secrets out of people when you've once got them weU
lathered. T picked up a stranger this morning as I was com-
ing in from Eovezzano, and I can spell him out no better than
I can the letters on that scarf I bought from the French cava-
lier. It isn't my wits are at fault,— I want no man to help
me toll peas from paternosters,— but when you come to for-
eign fashions, a fool may happen to know more than a wise
man."
"Ay, thou hast the wisdom of Midas, who could turn rags
and rudty nails into gold, even as thou dost," said Nello, "and
he had also something of the ass about him. But where is
thy bird of strange plumage? "
Bratti was looking round, with an air of disappointment
*%^y><K
mjt
BRKAKPAST FOB LOVj. 39
•h»U find him in the mS' iJ '«°* ^- B»* "«
they pu.hed'':hiri:;s;^pr^.Th:^^^^^^^^^^^ ^*«'r
way of out aod cloth on thi^idd. th. w 1 ^ *, v "*'' '" ""«
pnole a FlorentinT-' ^°'^ Sepulchre that oan
an'£;aro"r;t:s>'' ^""-^ --^ ^^ ^^ -
.^ge^s^iotSef ri::^^Srsix S'Sh*'"
object they r« 1^ 2K. ""*'* ■"«'* "' ""' '"^«-««<»l
CHAPTEB IL
»MAK»AST FOB lovi.
eral agitation, and not m^ch cSStrk^^rTf* ^^^ «*"■
ably of little interest to^y M C H^Jh "* "^ ^'j'^
same tired of waiting fnr TZtv. ^orentines, soon be-
round the p°aXlooki„J^^f " """'*■ '"'* ''^™'<' to "t^oU
might hap^n h^Sfe:, * £T; """"" °' ''***"» -^o
public newr R„f otiVwu * average curiosity about
L.tiLThis Sd-^ii^^'^p^-fris^f/^^^^^^^^^
^^a^^aud explored it a^ain^d 4S':*t^^riroflS!
"Not an obolus, by Jupite,, » j,, ^^^^ ^^ ^ ^^^^
m
ROMOLA.
^ioh WM Bot Tmowi or even Italian. "I thought I had OM
poor pieM left. I muat get my breakfa«t for love, then I "
rt.f !. 1: TJ" *°?" """^ ■'•P' '»^" '*'°« it seemed likely
ftat he had found a quarter of the market where that medium
of exchange might not be rejected.
In a corner, away from any group of talker., two mole*
were standing, weU adorned with red taaeele and collar.. On.
nf.™''«°f,T'lT'^° milk-veweh., the other a pair of pwi-
mer. fiUed with herb, and wlad.. Besting her elbow on tt.
neci. of the mule that carried the mUk, there leaned a youn*
girl, apparenUy not more than .iiteen, with a red hood .u^
rounding her face, which was all the more baby-like in its
prettmess from the entire concealment of her hair. The poor
ohUd, perhaps, was weary after her labor in the morning fan-
light in preparation for her walk to market from «>me oiteUo
*w%",r "^l"*' °*' ^°' "''• "^"^^ to 1«^« 8°"» to sleep in
that half-stonding, half-leaning posture. Kevertheless, our
stranger had no compunction in awaking her, but the means
he chose were k> genUe, that it raemed to the damsel in her
dream as if a litUe sprig of thyme had touched her lips while
.he was stooping to gather the herbs. The dream was broken,
however, for she opened her blue baby-eyes, and started up
with astonishment and confusion to we the young .tranger
standing close before her. She heard him speaking to her in
• voice which seemed so strange and soft, that even if she had
been more collected she would have taken it for granted that
he said something hopelessly unintelligible to her, and her first
movement was to turn her head a little away, and lift up »
comer of her green serge mantie as a Mreen. He repeiOed
nis words, —
" Forgive me, prettyone, fop awaking you. I'm dying with
hunger, and the scent of mUk makes breakfast seem more de-
sirable than ever."
He had chosen the words " muoi> di/ame, " because he knew
1^,? famUiar to her ears; and he had uttered them
playfuUy, with the intonation of a mendicant. This time he
was understood; the comer of the mantle was dropped, and in
a few moments a large cup of fragrant milk was held out to
Jum. He paid no further compliments before raising it to hit
BRBAKPAST FOR LOVB.
hung by the lide of the mule TnT-i. T^ ""° * ^« *'''''»>
hi. onp, he saw a Lge vSi of bl^h M '''?«" "* «''""'
-d caught a glance ofKut ejrttattem^ ^T"". '>
T 1,. r^ 'P' *■' " y°»' o"" breakfast," he Tu'd « w«
irZ^':Ly'^' '^«'-' ^^-*- A thtrd-thanS:
wJiTarttiets; ^ rr ' "r *'" ^^^^ -^ ^"-^
«ft-Ji and a. the loTd^k e^^" l"'"'^*'"" "* ^"'
the baby-face, it sfemed tnK« „?.t • "'"8er rested on
hal'd'i t« llhLlTt* S^de^^tmrdl'" .'"'' ^^^« ""
to make the bread sw!^ter^' ' ** ^« *" "«'*'" ki*
make her orI=3 herS ^.tTfT\'^'^ » *Wng to
•»ner of her'mtufto '': ^^^^JZ^'^^^'T "V
too presuu.ptuou. stranger wa. CinTfo,;.aS Udl'l v"
a^^?hrh^-Lr:£^^^^^^^^
I'll -r,^b:r:fange"rr i*;r; ^° ^°"'''* ''"^-'
worse. Gol dance offTd findfit^ d.cers-or something
you a t„ne to a little ^i^ tVt^ ^Tke"" ''" ^^'
wira^gwT~rk;fg7fr::irj'~''^ r ^ -^^^
and Lis slight exwession of?. alarm and deprecation,
KOIIOLA.
bl^oe to th. tender b.by-f«,e of the little mddT-thT^
of reaembknoe which often eoems « more croaking AuA^
cr«i.i„g prophecy than that of the deatr.-h^ * "
There was something irreaistihly propitiatina in that hHaVt
«S erip:^ati'oi'' """ °" '^•*''"'^' "'•^"'""^ "»"' ''i"^
JSn^-^crmSt^-ormrtiLrai^o^s^
you look for all the world «, .illy .. a t^Ke" S'7^
«p.ide down «.d ha. got on hi. heel, again, rndwhat fo^
took. ha.t thou been after, Te.«ir'^ added, t^^i^g to
ita» ?^<?'' '""""' ^"^"""^'^ *"» '" more'inn"iLg'to
!^t^;„M f °' •''''' *^? "'* """l ^«*"»1''. it seem., av°
*l\^^f'l!^^ '**•' « *J •<"• fo' any idle vaaJb^d
ttat didn't like toatoop for it, thou .illy .taring »bbiI?T^
thee say a few Ave. without counting »
h™ ^ ^r "l*^ T" P""y T"« *« t«king pity on a
aSn^^'v '' 7^°^'^^ ^^'^ UMxpectedly'^thont '
twrT . " ^»pdwme face I^k. oo well when it frown*
that I long to see it illuminated bj a .mile » ^
hvwu" *** 'I "^"^ "•"" P"** y™ "0 "«de of. Ton mar
iMke a beauty-.potor two on that face of your, that dwU
■poll your kw.ing on this .ide Advent" " ""i «>au
A. Monna Ghita lifted her formidable talon, bv wav of
»v^nif K °'^f "P ''"''°''*« »' t''" l^fo™. had been
rotjNello? Doesn't his tongue smack of Vemee?"
HnmwLv '"/?''* *^' '^'•^^ '" 8° undertone, "thy wis-
dom hath much of the ass in it, as I told thee just iow eZ-
oially about the ears. This stranger is a Grelk. else I'm n^^t
BRIAKTAST FOR LOVE. 33
my mxor. " ' '^ " '""*' ^^^^ ^ h" had • touch of
tit?" ' ' itranger bwin misbehaving him-
i>o«...or of i.w,ir'^h TrStrr'"i *'; •"•"""^ <^
meant to get into mi«!hief I ™„ 'f '""° ""' " he
under the Loggia de' Sf J^^^ ?^"" ''"' ^ '""^d him
I've seen w^n L Bern^do V n ""5°° •"• «°8er .uch «
•dmiring the oha?m. o7 mISI GWt^*i" ^o presumptuou. in
to find Monna Ghito heiT^ S it,""!*'' «~"^ '°'*"°«
from her daughter, and had ac^L/fV '^■/ '"? °' ""''^
^IViSent^^^^-^XfaS^^^^^^^^^
tiU I pay to^et !U":7t°"^,,°'^°"'„'''""^ ata/inpnrgatorr
fiercely, flbolEj do Id^l"^""? '"'* ^''"°'' ^'''^
to compel the Btf4er toS^ LmI '"""Tef^ '7. """'^ "' "^
ton, bring forward thy mule a bit tl,; n J"'.'^ 'J""" "«Ple-
As Tessa turned to take rt' „ w f . ' ''«"P°n"8-"
timid glance atTheslanIi who ' ''"''^"' "'"' '"'»* <»"»
out of the way of L tpp'CchTng Z^ZT''"', T f "°
wa. just long enough t^/sei.e d SiSo^^n't' KL'
84
BOHOLA.
han(^ which indicated that he had been watching for tUi
opportumly of an adieu.
"^ien^" said Bratti, raising his voice to speak across th«
cart; I leave you with NeUo, young man, for there's no
pushing my bag and basket any farther, and I have business
at home. But you'U remember our bargain, because if you
found Tessa without me, it was not my fault. Nello will
show you my shop in the Ferravecchi, and I'll not turn my
back on you." '
«n^'i*^T"'*.""'^' "*°'^'" '"^ the stranger, laughing,
and thm turned away with Nello up the narrow street whiS
led most directly to the Piazza del Duomo.
CHAPTBB m.
THE BASBEb's shop.
"To ten you the truth," said the young stranger to Nello,
, ^.?°* * ^'"^^ "^*"*'' °^ **« entangled vehicles and
mnles^ I am not sorry to be handed over by that patron of
mine to one who has a less barbarous accent, and a less enig-
matacal business. Is it a common thing among you Floren-
tines for an Itinerant trafficker in broken glass and rags to talk
M a shop where he sells lutes and swords? "
"Common? No: our Bratti is not a common man. He
baa a theory, and lives up to it, which is more than I can sav
for any philosopher I have the honor of shaving," answered
JNeJlo, whose loquacity, like an over-full bottle, could never
pour forth a smaU dose.' « Bratti means to extract the utmost
possible amountof pleasure, that is to say, of hard bargaining,
out of this life; winding it up with a bargain f or the easiefi
possible passage through purgatory, by giving Holy Church
made to that effect on the cheapest terms a notary could bo
got for. But I havfl often said to him, ' Bratti, thy bargain
IS a limping one, and thou art on the lame side of it Does
It not make thee a little sad to look at the pictures of the
■w*%
THE BABBEB'8 SHOP. 35
tmder; andexoeptwithS^BiS^'tl.r*^" ^.^''"°'
about in an inconvenient manneTl ^T^' T """"" ^" ""^
ing a bargain for aeoolTiTT' , T °° ***""« °f % mak-
"this light talk iU besee^fl" ^ "^ f""* ""^'^g himself,
and the Mu«sareteLt?theriSr^T '°'^™°^'' '"^ ^^
to a barber; and you yXeU !^'-'^""'y'"»Painful thought
cloud, for .hen I2IT^^ fpTh'lT ''""^"^ ""'^''' *
with 80 sorry a night's iJeZTl ^"*"""' *»k« "P
have befallM hini5' ^ ^' "*"®' """"^ misfortune to
^^^B^7ZlX':^'^'r'^yo-''^ot?'' said
t««e»t on VsS^^hTye nc^f::,''"/'*'' *°° '^°"» "^^ «-
followed it. °'*'*^ "•« ""llreot inquiry that
"What Lorenzo? Thera ig i,.,*
whose death could throw tt6Mer^to°tl^r""' ' '^'^''
lantern of the Dnomo leanhi^fn^ ^*° "P'""' "' <*«
lions of the Bepublfoto f^r* L '^"'*"'°' '^^ «""« "»«
derourone anotter i J^ r^*' «n unmediate necessity to
of our Atheni^if i may X^X° ^'' ^"^"^ *^'' ^«^^«-
a Greek." ««7mate such a comparison in the ear of
whXut';;e:i'i:iti'^„?^^7'y= "fondoubt
duced so learned a barber » ^ ™'*"' """'"l '>»^« Pn>-
xaSC'-el^llteLrv^'dtr *" "'"'«'''»." ^aid the
oondila to httle Ziwse bill, ^""V'"" ^'^'^^'' Cal"
your Italian is CCthihKou^h'h 7'°?!^"°"'^"=
forty years-better even t£' tta? of th^ '*'° ^,''^y
Marullo, who may be said tn w- • , ^^ accomplished
more senses th;m one^^j!^ have married the Italic Muse in
lovely Alessand^ST*^ ^^ '"" "^'^^ °^ learned and
Grli^sSkpttdriJi^^ti,*" "rr "'''' ^ -- o' «
J^^-trees wU have'tSr sT iTcSft^^r I'tst "•"■
s^r/a:r(5,:r;e;irucr«^* "^ ^ - ^<^^--?
a ureek very much as your peaches are Persian.
3«
ROUOIA.
The Greek dye waa robdued in me, I guppwe, tiU I had be«i
of gods and heroes. And, to confess something of my privSe
Ltww k":' "■ *^% ^f'y ''"'™« ''•^p'''««'' j"« left r
But-when the towers fall, you know it is an ill business for
W. J w ? "^^^ "y ***P« to'^d Eome, as I should
have done but for a fallacious Minerva in the shape of an
a cTwd'^jrr"'- l^J ^'"«'' •»« ""-^ ' y°« will £ 10 t"
Zr»,^V"T^~\°'"'" •>"* at Florence every comer S
pmietrated by the sunshine of Lorenzo's patronage- Flor™™
« ^ebe^t market in Italy for such oomm^^^-Cyois!^
K^nZ . ^*™"l" •'* ^"^ » '"S^ melon, every ott«
SrC^l." ". ^r^''^' ^ ""PP""'- Have we not Be^
nardo Euoellai, and Alamanno Binucoini, and plenty more?
And If you want to be informed on such maters" L nZ
«m your man. It seems to me a thousand years ti^l i Z^
te^Zr ? **' "T^" ^^ y"""""- A first oi 7, t
™n./^ - '^ ^°"^ ^- '^^* 1^*^ "y fine young niiT
must be parted with, were it as dear to yon as the nylXS
yo^ dreams. Here at Florence, we love not to si a m^
been shaven : if you repent, and let your beard wow after it
mout^Slv'^A"'' t' " ■"^'<^'' -* the^Lor^ Jr*
Z^)hT^- ^""^ ^^ "^"^ "" ^""S"' '^l'** Cesser Angelo
oalls the divine prerogative of lips, but will appear like a dwk
oavem fringed with horrent brambles."
1* '""""i" * *?™^'* prophecy," said the Greek, "especiaUv
htUe Tessa I stole a kiss from this morning „ *^ ' "" '"'
.•nt„ <r*I '''^ ^ * rough-handed contadina: you will rise
^ of a7J? ^"* ^*^'" ""'^' y°" """"* n°* have the
Ho^jtr"' V,"""/' '"" "P"*«= y°« niust look like
a courtier, and a scholar of the more polished sort, such as our
THE BARBER'S SHOP. 37-
chance tavern." '"'" "^' "*"<' <*»■ '""o in a
«n! ^'"^ "^^"'y ^**'*' " «^d the Btraneer « If th. wi
tine Graces demand it I am mllino, f • "* ^^loren-
matterof mybeard, but—!? ^ *° ^'"' "P *" """^1
"Ye8, yes," interrupted Nello. "T tnnw _», i
wy. It is the bella »azzera-L h.,^T ^"' ^""^ """'d
not choose to part with I^Tw„ ^'"'""^'°'' ^°''''''' y<« do
pruning-ecco^and you wm lo^k nJ° ^l'"^" /"^* » "«1«
prince Pico di MirandXiT L^rime And'h'^ '""''^°"'
good time in the Piazza San «;;; *' . ^*™ ^^ ^'a in
shop. But you fre nau^^ t "' """^ "* "'^ "^""^ "^ ""T
lookatourwonde^rfftew^M *«''= "^t^'^lly, you want to
del Fiore. WeU wl a Z ' ?" ^"°r' °" ^anta Maria
leave a closer su^eTtiCThav^r''' t"' ^ "^"^^ y°" »<>
ing with the inSi;'?m';7rt'"e"e:t':ie ' "" "r^''
>ny razor. Ah, then, come roLl^way » '^ ^ *" "'
he could see^ once the C^rshSfo'f'^^'^T'f
slender soaring grace of Gi^^^T^ snell of the cupola, the
octagon of SanX:^„TinW of theTt' '^' *?*' ^"*'"*
gates of storied bronze wMch «till L S' *°'"°« '^ ""'I*"*
glory of their origSS ' S Th^Z^^ '""T^* '*''^«'»
fresher in their oiiA. anH Iv. .^'^ """"*« ^e'« tl>en
now, when toTwLters^f fot ' '""^ P^^P'*' *^ "^^y ««>
white to the rich och"e1fw.n „""'!. ^"^^ t«™e<l their
fasade of the cathS dt n^ T^" '°«"-^--'' t^e
•tuoco, but had upon it the m»l?^ . *"°"'"'"'"'' ^ ^a^ed
completed marbleXlyinXjTtotuff ?r"'°f '^^^ half-
had devised a hundred ^dfiTf! "'"'"f ""='>««. which Giotto
panile in all its haxmon^u» v^^r'*'^^"*' *'"^ «« *^ <="■"-
eyes upward, Mgh"rrjrat°fSA"''/°™ '^-^ '''
seemed aprophetio symbol, teu" g^°t hum^PS^ ^^S' it
how and sometime sharw. ;,.„„,/ .~^""°*"'™ must some-
aspiring beau4 ^ ^'° '^'"'''* ^■"' tJ^at Pnre
88
ROHOM.
•tood with h « arm. folded and his ourli falling backward,
tliere wa. a slight touch of scorn on his lip, and when his e^
fen agjun they glanced round with a scanning coolness whW^
was rather p.quing to Nello's Florentine spirit.
Well, my fine young man, " he said, with some impatience.
knnw ?f r""' '*'"*'" *""" ^"'^^- I 'hoild like to
know ,f you have ever seen finer work than our Giotto's
the s^de of Brunelleschi's there, or any marbles finer or mo™
cunningly wrought than these that our Signoria got from f.^
off quarries, at a price that would buy a dukedom. Come,
now have you ever seen anything to equal them? " ^
throa^ after the Turkish fasWon, or even your own razo^"
Z <^I/„T.! ^^^J "^^^ 8»y'y' '^'i ^o^^e o" toward
tte gates of the Baptistery, "I dare say you might get a con-
fession of tte true faith from me. But with my th^«,? ^e
fcomperd I venture to tell you that your buildings sm^k toS
much of Chnstian barbarism for my teste. I have a Zddw!
ZhC !?"* '^*" " inside-hideous smoked Madonn«i
LTZkri "'♦^"'"'^ '"^^ '^•"" '^"'^ astonishme"
»«J! fT J?" "P""' ^^-o^""! "■'"lotons hanging on
M««s, or stuck .11 over with arrows, or stretched on gnt
tTt?™ tT '"'* """"^ ''"'^ ''•"^ "''■« ^ P^P*"""! lamen-
tation. I have seen enough of those wry-necked favorites of
heaven at Constentinople. But what is tiis bronze dZ^u^h
with imagery? These women's figures seem moulded in a
different spirit from those starved and storing saintsTsAe
^L Tn^'^r,''??' "'■*' ^1^ "* » '"'"«» mind i
^^ "ii^l"' ^*'' " l*'^ ^*"°' "''^ ~"°« triumph. « I think we
■shall show you by and by that our Plorentiie art is Wk a
state erf barbarism. These gates, my fine young ma^ wtr^
^oulded haW a century ago, by our Loren^ Ghiber^SZ^
he Munted hardly so many years as you do." '
Ah, I remember," said the stranger, turning awav like
«ne who«, appetite for contemplation wu soon sfti^i^^' « ?
i ^hr^. »
THB BARBBR8 SHOP. g^
•I'd the legend, of Tad heSte .^^i '"I"'?''' ^"^ °«^<"».
vi.ion of Olympus iUelf woJm hT* '"^"' '"" ""''J^t". ^e
"I underitai^d ,» „ d N«I1^ ■1"°"" """ *° *•■•"•"
ti^ey walked alo„;. "YofSoTfh * "'«""*'"'* •'"'»»' "
MmuIIo, ay, and a. Angl P„i.°w \'''^"' ""*•"• « Miohele
oanonicate,'when "elelaxe, wit??° ^Zf'' "" 'P'** «" J""
hi" leotnres, and talk, of the ™S! " u*'" '" "^ "^"P "^fr
•leep and making the woS f„^ r*'""^ ^'°'° *''"' '""K
But he rail, againat ^7 R^.* f f""" "'^ ""O" ">"«
«. all talk Lat^a^ain, .5re^''°\''i*"' "''? "'"'* *« -•ke
flayed by the barbwiam. of th« ^' ! '*^'' »'« ""ffloiently
to talk Utin I wouin. ^f hi ^' "^"^ " *'"' ^8" »«
they took to beating ^ X\l, ^•''" ^ ^°"«"» 'h% day
bell, were not enough to atv tht^ !? ')" "''^ ^'"^o the
Me«K,rGreoo.ifyrw1nt^S'ortt^i^*''«/»'"t,.. Ah.
?h.p, you must fr^„e„t my shoo Tt ^JT °' °" ~^°'«-
""telleot, and in toat .enw th^ n! ,^! ^'^'^ °' Florentine
Pleat predece^dr, B^hTeHo ^Vc^A" ^ •*^-'"' "-^
fnvolou. pretenei^n that hi^' ."iVrh- r ^'- "^ *" ""'«'
centre of our city. And he™ „« !^\ Calimara was the
and the Bazor.'^ ApoSo you II "'.!* *' "'«" "''ApoUo
the Triptolemu, of Cc/Jt Z" sl^''°'"^« '^'> «^^oa
•ublime Anonimo, who.e w.t^rio„. "^ "T'- "^ '*"''«' *^
a .hadowy hand." ""yeteriou. identity is indicated by
KilddilJr,oKnt^- tr^. Sandro,- .tinned
way for them on tteX Md •" « a'?*" ^°°*''' "-"^e
for this signor to sit down i„d . ** "°T """ke all clear
"" ^i/r: ^" '-ed -andrhSTe £",r-"^<^
BtJ^. tkin7SSh?£t?r°" *'*"' ^ -'" -^^ '^«
shop from a rj^m Jftnt !^^!? l-"^ "^^^ ^"^'^'^ ^e
-mailer walled enclos^ wl™ a fJT.: °^'°« ^*° " '>*"1
rounded a. tone Hermw « I ^„l!^ ^^^ "^^ '">»»''' "«'-
meets there? •• ^ '"PP°*" y°»' eonelare of erudit{
waSle'trri:. ^ w/iej^el'"'^'' ^ "' ""^«^ ""o
"om, in which were some benches, a table,
10
BOHOLA.
II. :•
U i
■^-w^
71
with ono book m manuBoript and one printed in oapitaU lyin*
open upon .t, a lute, a few oU-.ketohe8. and amiiel or two
of handa and ancient masks. "For my shop is a no leia
fitting haunt of the Muses, as you wiU acknowledge when you
feel the sudden illummation of understanding and the serene
vigor of inspiration that will come to you with a clear chin.
Ah I you can make that lute discourse, I perc^.ve. I, too.
have Bome skill that way, though the serenata is useless when
daylight discloses a visage like mine, looking no fresher than
M apple that has stood the winter. But look at that sketch •
It is a fancy of Piero di Cosimo's, a strange freakish painter'
who says he saw it by long looking at a mouldy wall."
The sketch NeUo pointed to represented three masks-one
Th-Z" r l"*u"l* ^f'^'' '°°""" " Bonowing Magdalen, and
the third, which lay between them, the rigid, cold face of a
Stoic : aie masks rested obliqtiely on the lap of a litUe child,
whose cherub features rose above them with something of the
supernal promise in the gaze which painters had by that time
learned to give to the Divine Infant.
inJtll^n^"^ r*"*', ^ "**' " "^^ """ y°»°8 Greek, touch-
ing the lute while he spoke, so as to bring out a slight musical
murmur. "The child, perhaps, is the Golden Age, wantbg
neither worahip nor philosophy. And the Golden Age can al-
ways come back as long as men are born in the form of babies,
ajid don t come into the world in cassock or furred mantle!
^: ^«fj'd "nay mean the wise philosophy of Epicurus, re-
moved alike from the gross, the sad, and the severe."
Ah! evejbody has his own interpretation for that pic-
ture,' said Nelloj "and if you ask Piero himself what'^he
meant by it, he says his .pictures are an appendix which Messer
Domeneddio has been pleased to make to the universe, and if
nil J°r7 " r "^"j; V!!* *^*y ""^' '"' J""i bote' ^^^"o of
sketch but he puts his fingers to his ears and shakes his head
w.!^ 'i> . I " P*"*- ^^ "*y«-» ^""'Ke a^i-^al. our
«ero. But now all is ready for your initiation into the mys-
teries of the razor. '
"Mysteries they may well be called," continued the barber,
with rismg spirits at the prospect of a long monologue, as h^
THK BARBERS SHOP.
41
tten'. thought., beo.u«T^.eiS th^LTV. '/" ""« «»''« «'
•having. (Ahl you wTuceTutS .^ h 'he first aom.nt after
the peculiar fitness of a barbed. ... . ."'"' " "hatmake.
wit and learning. For lo^k n™ . ''.*° '"^'«°« • «»ort of
i. . duU oonolava at the S^of ^The M^Tf' "'°P= *''«•
rival n,inei but what sorf of in.nW V u^"* P"'«»d» ^
be got from the .cent ^f nau.^^ vl?'J '^''*'''' y°"' «"«
My nothing of the fact tLt „„ vegetable decoctions 7-to
tW you see a doS of'^riiTJ" ^"' ■''"' "^""^"^
guised in fur and scarlet, w.hL\ f or t*'*"""" '?''''" <!*«•
him blocking up the doorwly s^ ' '''If''^.' °' "'"'' "^
ing .aliva. (Your chia a littie ri^ln %'^''^, '"'"'' '"'Peo*-
template that angel who is bWin^T',"- '' P"'-" you : con-
toe oeUing. I had it painted «°* , V"""!** »* y°» from
ay clients' chins.) bCIs vo,^ / ^ '"' *'"' "8"l.tionof
•nd decocts, is a m^an of ^t 'ndC ^T"' '"° '"'"»"«»
•ocorduig to a system, and is obH«;i ? ^'•,l~'">ned people
*»»• .to justify the oonsequenc^^'^Now/t'L"'' '"'''• •^-
PMsionate; the only thUi^ h«^ „ J. ', ^^' """ he dis-
r««.r. always proving hf iJnotT!;"? "'^^'' ^^ " *''•
flaw in my great predl^r fi^v^C ^^ ^^' '"« *he
had consequently I prejudTe aC hf. ^^ """ ' ^^ ""d
escaped that, I saw ve^r e^j/X t auth ?■ P***^' ^ '"'^«»
busmess. in conflict mth the hwf^ f '? " " "*"owing
demands an impartial aff^tton^ n' °^ ""* '»«». which
Mesjer. the ouUine of youT.hS'a'^d r'" "*^'- ^.
■awden's: and now fix your Jnd„'"'\''P '" " clear as i
yourself whether you are boLTf '"•,? J^»t^ question-ask
^ .and say if you r n S an^T" T*^«" ''*^ " » » »-
Pomt Only, if you decide for arr?"" ^^'^^ °» the
your fortune is ni^de, for theTha^h XT '* *° y""^"*" ^^
Florence. Ahl 1 think I «L « , V'^^'^Ker foUowing in
your eye. I have t on the aufc /*"' ^"•'"''' ^'^ «
Maochiavelli. himself keen enouef to d^ "' ""^ y""°» ^'«=o'^
M we say, and a great lover of Iv . '^? ^^^'^ '^' «o^o,
beard is hardly of Wo yS °J^^«^'« "having, though hi;
•' * aau(, that no sooner do the hairs
f?
•■ ROMOLA.
begin to pmh tbemielTM, than h« p«ro«iTM k Mrtain groH
ncM of appraheniion oraeping orer him."
"BuppoMyou l«t me look at mytalf," laid the itrangw,
laughing. " The happy nffect on my inteUaot is perbapa ob-
structed by a little doubt as to the effect of my appearance."
"Behold yourself in this mirror, then) it is a Venetion
mirror from Murano, the true noiea teipium, as I hare named
it, compared with which the finest mirror of steel or silver is
mere darkness. Bee now, how by diligent shaving, the nether
region of your face may preserve its human outline, instead
of presenting no distinction from the physiognomy of a
bearded owl or a Barbery ape. I have seen men whose beards
have so invaded their cheeks, that one might have pitied them
as the victims of a sad, brutalizing chastisement befitting our
Dante's Inferno, if they had not seemed to strut with a strange
triumph in their extravagant hairiness."
"It seems to me," said the Greek, still looking into the
mirror, "that you have taken away some of my capital with
your razor -I mean a year or two of age which might have
won me more ready credit for my learning. Under the in-
spection of a patron whose vision has grown somewhat dim, I
shall have a perilous resemblance to a maiden of eighteen in
the disguise of hose and jerkin."
" Not at all, " said Nello, proceeding to clip the too extrava-
gant curls; "your proportions are not those of a maiden.
And for your age, I myself remember seeing Angelo Poliziano
begin his leotuies on the Latin language when he hadayounger
beard than yours j and between ourselves, his juvenile ugliness
was not less signal than his precocious scholarship. Whereas
you— no, no, your age is not against you; but between our-
selves, let me hint to you that your being a Greek, though it
be only an Apulian Greek, is not in your favor. Certain of
our Boholars hold that your Greek learning is but a wayside
degenerate plant until it has hem transplanted into Italian
brains, and that now there is such a plentiful crop of the
superior quality, your native teachers are mere propagators of
degeneracy. Eccol your curls are now of the right proportion
to neck and shoulders; rise, Messer, and I will free you from
the encumbrance of this cloth. Gnaffi I I almost advise yon
THE BARBIRS 8B0P. 43
•djnlwtion with • look of ^n..M ", ^""'' • '""templativ.
in what quart., 1 1^ to ' Jl ' » T^"^^' " """ <1""»'°° '".
from th...id Weroo^dS'"'!,'':'"''^ ""' """ '" ""
Wing .ha« thi, «Z1S; hoat te 2X1' T""' "'
not conceal f n,m y^ that1h.™1 . '""?" "'"'• " ^ »'"
•mong U8i and though a. a iL »i ''"^'"'"" •K"'"' ""^kt
rtare no prejudFcM I Itt^ ,^>T'""^ ^^ authorship, I
alway. .uch pretty 'vo..n«.l ""' *•"' ''" ^rwk* are not
oftenof anunoomU " "^^""y""'"''-' '•""' '"""ition i.
a barbarou. uttorS'oTS'"'',rr"' """^ '"""•"«<» »'"'
lordly more .uThTnTo«thI^t?'f/'j?'f''' ^"""^ «"•-"-
viaou.loquacitrXrth« ^'*,*''"^'^'''«' '» • •*»»• of
tine, ha/e libeL id^« .^'Z^'"'.'*'^" me-we Floren-
in.trum.nt S can flatter and"*^'' !""* '^"'" ^^at an
tongue mu.t hay. ^nZ^f ^d promia, «o cleverly m the
tbat t?„th i. a riddSr'tS^ itw^J'to'Tr '^""^ ^"^
«7. Bu^l:r;KSSAl'rt^h''T''*'°"*^^^^^
•t what i. th. hangine-Doint l^h „ \''J ''°"«'*y ^"'P^*
ooa«=iencethaVhewSildZk? f"'-^''*'' " of so «u,ya
oorpM. " ^"^ °"*' ' 'tepprng-stone of his father'.
B.t?r:uro;rnVoaiirt£sr::'''* '--^ ^
haa^^ed to atone for rw°rof\S'rc: «~^-'-'' ^•"''
heart m;S;''S !:(.~'- ^. - »«» rep«.ti„g what I
the cream wWch'S nW^ ^"1""' "^ '''°^"*"'«' » "-nply
Ana forth^t ^UZrS^lr^ZTl^r^Z
** ROXOUL
VMo, in a mon mooUng tone^ and with a tigniHoant friaaec
"Uie fact ii, you are lieretioi, MeMar; Jaalouiy liai notLing
to do with it: if you would juit ohango your opinion about
laaven, and altar your Doxology a littla, our Italian loholara
would think it a thouiand years tUl they could give up their
ohalre toyou. Yea, yei; it i* chiefly religious scruple, and
I*rUy also the authority of a great classic,— Juvenal, is it
not? He, T gather, had his bUe as much stirred by the
swarm of Greeks as our Messer Angelo, who is fond of quot-
ing some passage about their incorr^ble impudence— awfaoia
perdita."
" Pooh I the passage is a compliment," said the Greek, who
had recovered himself; and seemed wise enough to take the
matter gayly,—
"■Inganlum valox, sudMla perdlu, Mrmo
rromptni, et lueo torrratlor. '
A rapid intellect and ready eloquence may carry off a littla
impudence."
"Assuredly," said Nello. « And since, as I see, yon know
Latin literature as well as Greek, you will not fall into the
mistake of Giovanni Argiropulo, who ran full tilt against
Cicero, and pronounced him all but a pumpkin-head. For,
let me give you one bit of advice, young man— trust a barber
who has shaved the best chins, and kept his eyes and mm
open for twenty years— oil your tongue well when you talk
of the ancient Latin writers, and give it an extra dip when
you talk of the modem. A wise Greek may win favor among
usj witness our excellent Demetrio, who is loved by many, and
not hated immoderately even by the most renowned scholars."
"I discern the wisdom of your advice so clearly," said the
Greek, with the bright smile which was continually lighting
up the fine form and color of his young face, " that I will ask
you for a little more. Who now, for example, would be the
most likely patron for me? Is there a son of Lorenzo who in-
herits his tastes? Or is there any other wealthy Florentine
specially addicted to purchasing antique gems? I have a fine
Cleopatra cut in sardonyx, and one or two other intaglios and
cameos, both curious and beautiful, worthy of being added to
THl BARBBRH Bnop. ^
»»t on my r„y.g„. Mo J^'.;'","^h«uld'^ik:t"* ,•*'"« ' "^
•wn for my nre««iit niM»i «„ »i.i , ""'" "«» to 'tiw • tinaJl
out the rtag'^«rS,d it "k.' "i! ""'"•" (' •« k. t^k
tlm, to apply to IMepo de' Trtlf ♦, ' '^V' '"'*'''• '« "o
Ithinkiti.L.othe, ^ t!f CWt IKr *'," ""^''•' ^'
Ym. yei. 1 have it wk r ""P*"* thttheoovete mo«t. .
^ootaea, bristling all over i^^iH T."' ^•"" '""""•d Po-
^k and Latin are ouoomfo . V **"•' ''"' """ "^"^
i. Bartolonuneo Soala thT^ . ' '""y- '*'"» ">at man
oame to Florence m • ;oS" d™'!*"'^ v ' "^ ^P"Wio. ^
-a' branny mon,?e„' Th,t»^' ^""""7' """"'» «»°
lipped PoHzi.no, who tLl wi^v ''"""'^ byourhoney-
•greewithlemon-juie,. ^^ bi^uJT .V "*" " ^^^ t^"*
why the secretary may be1he mo™ ^' *^*.""'y ^ * '«~"
• .trange .chola? For iTt^Z "^^ ^ '^° » 8°°^ *«"> *<>
tmt a barber who h« iha^^ toaZit*"^ ?*' '" <^'^
1. njuoh .uch a .te«i a. Ser Sg^^.'^t :?,t::Sr'r ^^^
»lMri(y luleei it La* got the thi.ti! "of \ ^"^^^ "'""' ""'<'''
However, the .ecreta^ , a nL^'^w lt:'^,."°"^« i*" taa
•wn to the halvinjt of a f«n„^- a ,^ •"' """J «» von,
buy «,me of yo^rl,ms » '■'^''' '"'* ^^ ^^ »«^ "»»k«iy »
«Z"imXTtlJ "• ^ " *''" «"»* -•» ' " -d the Greek.
a .tranger may find it difficult to ^,^t^o«°""»""?'' "''
mean time, I could take von i« . » ^ ?**• ^"* >" the
c«. help y^u to a chSceKaSle'fl" i'" ''" * ^^^
•ooner than anybody else in FW^ interview with Soala
own sake too, Viav „Jhi„! T'v?~''°'*^ "•*«« '<» hia
daughter Ron^olt Z "st'^l ^" ^°"'*^°"'' °' »' "«
it got quarrel*,m^e «.d t^'ed"^*^, *^' ^°^«"'^<» % before
46
ROHOLA.
tur""^ '"^ ""^ *° '^^ •""• -^ -^ »•»• him-
NeUo thrnggad liii dionldert. "For two good HMont-
w«t of .ight to look .t th« gonu, «d w«>t of^qTw
for them. Our old Eudo de' B«di i. k> blind tUt he «m
•omething bright wh«n .h. comet very nearhL: doubU«M
!^™1^^ ',"*!'" "^ "'"'•'•' *'~~' Ahl her. coma
•ome diento of mine, ud I shouldn't wondM if on. of them
oaaldeKTc your tun about that ring." ^^
CHAPTER IV.
yiMT mPBBUIOBI.
"Ooon-BAT, Meuer Domenioo," «dd Nello to the foremoet
?W? r.J'"^" '''° •"**"** '^^ •''°P> '•>«• J" nodded
•UenUy to the other. "You oome a. opportunely a. oheele
out delay-eocol And this i. a morning when every one hM
grave matter on hi« mind. Florence orphaned-the very
flTJ '^^'?"°^'^1 .way-heaven itoelf at a lo., wh.7^
do next Otmif Well, well, the sun ieneverthelew travel-
hng on toward dinner-time again, and as I was saying, you
come like cheest ready grated. For this young stranger was
wishing for an honorable trader who would advance him "
sum on a certain ring of value, and if I had counted every
goldsmith and money-lender in Florence on my fingers, I
oouldn t have found a better name than Menioo Cennini. Be-
sides, he hath other ware in which you deal-Greek learning.
Sa5;s7nr;r."'""' ^^'•'"""* whichyouprmters J'e
The grave elderly man, son of that Bernardo Cennini who.
twenty years before, having heard of the new process of
ptintiug earned on by Geimans, had oast his own types in
1MT 11IPH18610N8. ^
to your correct editiW n^^^Zl „ """• <»™''ta''M even
cued a few gem. oS JS^I^j, /r.TJ^''' "• ^T '-•
fcom the .Cn^lott '°''^''' '""' "'"' «"«««i
tl^-l»d kept hi. ey?^,:^"/: tS^^'";«r"»^«">«-
•brupUy,— " wreek, and now laid
you'd give me a .?X « "'"^ "^ ^°" '■"" '»' ""^ Si«on, 5
Tito Melema utarted and looked rn.,n,i — -^t.
ment In hi. f«je as L* ataVfTn^ T** ' P*'*' "toniah-
UmnotimetneeirtriL * "x^i^; but Kello left
J.d faacie. ever P^kSlTuLtTkL^^^.V^'-'r?
thou play witi the fine visaee of iS^^T-! J^** ^'^ ""*
»uit thy traitor? Aak l^rfa^er^ r^^''^"'" "°»^«>*
and thou mayst make al^„ts«^,r *"".^"' "y"" "P'^d,
troops of devout woLen- or if^^^''°J'^■'"" *^'" ""' ''"'^
put myrtle aboutlLourlsiidn^":.''* ^ " =''"•'«' ^''^'
•ay rather a Vho^hl^llZ ^t^ * ''^« »*«''"'«. or
bright as a summer ^S°: if J?« *'°\" f ^"■» «°d
•Pweof a'oredo."' *' ^^* °" ^" '"«"d in the
"Ay.NeUcv-saidthei^t^r.speakmg with abrupt pan«.. ;
I
48
ROHOLA.
and if thy tongue can leave off its everlasting ohirpinB lone
enough for thy understanding to consider the matter; thou
mayst see that thou hast just shown the reason why the face
of Messere will suit my traitor. A perfect traitor should
nave a face which vice can write no marks on— lips that will
he with a dimpled smile-eyes of such agate-like brightness
and depth that no infamy can dull them— cheeks that will rise
from a murder and not look haggard. I say not this youne
man 18 a traitor: I mean, he has a face that would make him
the more perfect traitor if he had the heart of one, which is
saymg neither more nor less than that he has a beautiful face
informed with rich young blood, that will be nourished enough
by food, and keep its color without much help of virtue He
may hav5 the heart of a hero along with it; I aver nothing
to the contrary. Ask Domenico there if the lapidaries can
always tell a gem by the sight alone. And now I'm going to
put the tow m my earp, for thy chatter and the bells together
are more than I can endure: so say no more to me, but trim
my beard."
With these last words Piero (called "di Cosimo," from his
master, Cosimo BosseUi) drew out two bits of tow, stuffed
them m his ears, and placed himself in the chair before Nello
who shrugged his shoulders and cast a grimacing look of intel-
ligence at the Greek as much as to say, "A whimsical fellow
you perceivel Everybody holds his speeches as mere jokes."
Tito, who had stood transfixed, with his long dark eyes rest-
ing on the unknown man who had addressed him so equivo-
caUy, seemed recalled to his self-command by Piero's change
of position, and apparently saHsfiedwith his explanation, was
again givmg his attentidn to Cennini, who presently said —
This 18 a curious and valuable ring, young man. This
^ti^ho ofthe fish with the crested serpent above it, in the
black stratum of the onyx, or rather nicolo, is well shown by
the surrounding blue of the upper stratum. The ring hal
doubtless, a history?" added Cennini, looking up keenlvTt
the young stranger.
«m,.^**' ^^^^" said Tito, meeting the scrutiny very frankly
The rmg was found in Sicily, and I have understood from
those who busy themselves with gems and sigils, that both the
IBST mPRESSIONS.
49
pX siS".^ iir ,::,:sr r- ^^^^
have lo»t BuT" he contin„,r t- ^™ 'Whatever he m2
it ^.nstanUy sinVl q'^ft^^^^C -«; " """"gh ^ have worj
getter fortunate at Bea,TuS''^'""°''"'«i« -"e alto-
eaoape from drowning as a sEnl' ""l'*' ^ "^ *» """"t
remains to be seen whether '™'"«'" P'°°f "f its virtue. It
b«ttolosenochl?otrch7SfM ""' T" *° «»»>'
only to hold the ring for a short «,. ' '^T' ^ "i'lp^yyon
~m far beneath its vZe ^ r wm' "/ ^^"^^ ^°' " ^^a^l
oaa dispose of certain otherlV"^^™ " as soon as I
>ny doublet, oriS as sLTt "'^''^ "" ''««°"'J ''ithin
scholarly einploymrnt. tf Hav IT T '°'"«*^^8 ^y any
Witt such." ""'='« ^ may be so fortunate as to meet
8aid?ennS^^^7J^";"8»2,'*r''"°°'"''^>ame,»
scholarship ttanl. wUWW^' Z^° '" "* better judge of
task that may test'yir oaSbUitt v*° '""^f^ '°^ ^'^ *
yourringuntUIe^ll°/P"„7^^^^^ *«^« ^^^
't pie,. , you, come al«.gVtrm?» '""'""^ '''^^' '«<^. «
"8, yes," saidNeUo, "go with nr
"annotgoinbettercomnanv. hi \ '''*'■ I*°menico, you
tion ttat gives a mTS ri.h '^'?»"d« the const^!
that constellation m^ S^hfcl 1^' oT^h""^^^' '^^''*«^«'
^ause babies can't choose tte^ nil *''^ ^""^ consequence
If ttey could, ttere m"TtL^''i„J2i'°'°'"°^^^
P«ticular epochs. B.'dd^, "^u" ^^1'!°' °' '*''<'^ «*
s:^-wSris*s: Cthr^^ ^ -a-'-s-s
"^rfLt;»^-^^^^^^^^^^^ ''^"'^'^
■no rear of that." said t;*-,- u i
t>™ed round his bright"! afjh^ ""'«'. * ^^^' >^ he
« great service :-ttft is tte L™, -V- ^"^ »« to do me
aeeiag me again." '°°'* ^"''^^e security for your
a* ttat withourtaking it as a si™ Tf 7 !!J ""'='' "^ °»*«ide
thou wilt say ne^ff n^ "P ^ " '"""""^ mature. Why
-gabout oK W^Lre'KZf''" ^' '^-^-i-
4 maae nis Judas as beautiful as St
w
ROUOLA.
John I But thou art as deaf as the top of Mount Morello
with that accursed tow in thy ears. Well, well : I'll get a
little more of this young man's history from him before I take
him to Bardo Bardi."
'It
CHAPTER V.
THB BLIND SOBOLiLB AKD BIS DAVSHTXB.
T'aB Via de' Bardi, a street noted in the history of Fir moe,
lies in Oltrarno, or that portion of the city which clothes the
southern bank of the river. It extends from the Ponte Vec-
ohio to the Piazza de' Mozzi at the head of the Ponte aUe
Grazie; its right-hand line pf houses and walls being backed
by the rather steep ascent which in the fifteenth century was
known as the hill of Bogoli, the famous stone-quarry whence
the city got its pavement— of dangerously unstable consist-
ence when penetrated by rains; its left-hand buildings flank-
ing the river and making on their northern side a length of
quaint, irregularly pierced faqade, of which the waters give a
softened loving reflection as the sun begins to decline toward
the western heights. But quaint as these buUdings are, some
of them seem to the historical memory a too modem substitute
for the famous houses of the Bardi family destroyed by popu-
lar rage in the middle of the fourteenth century.
They were a proud and energetic stock, these Bardi- con-
spicuous among those who clutched the sword in the earliest
world-famous quarrels of Florentines with Florentines, when
the narrow streets were darkened vrith the high towers of the
nobles, and when the old tutelar god Mars, as he saw the gut-
ters reddened with neighbors' blood, might weU have smUed at
the centuries of lip-service paid to his rival, the Baptist. But
tiie Bardi hands were of the sort that not only v.'-'.jh the sword-
hilt with vigor, but love the more delicate pleasure of finger-
ing minted metal: they were matched, too, with true Floren-
tine eyes, capable of discerning that power was to be won by
other means than by rending and riving, and by the middle of
the fourteenth century we find them risen from their original
THE BLIND SCHOLAR AIJD HIS DAUGHTER «
«dXtZtlt'lerdrZ?U^^"«^-. "^ 'and.
di«turbmg to thejealov^yof th«1* ^ur ^°"°*' "^ V*'"".
These lordly purchLeaZ .L^ republican fellow-citizens.
disaatronsl/sCi^d olfZ"^ ^^ °," '"*'°8 «>« B^di
the very front of EnL?. ^'"* ^^' " "ta^ding in
child. Vthat tLe!^rd?rtarrrr"'\^"'''"' «°^-
wars of our Edwiul tt? ^-^^ to furnish specie for tha
kind "made over to iem « ' n""*^ ^"""^ '«^«»"'"' "i"
of freight. foJmlSZ'.ZT'TUir'- T? ^^'"'■°»'
them with an auRust defin^ o% , *"^' '^«'"°r 'eft
««de a too .^dden7eml1 for t?. "^"""^ ^*'''"«" """iito"
ing a ruinous sh^ktoXored t of S'",* °' f^P™'*"' «"""-
houses, which was fdt «/„ the Bardi and of associated
coast, 'of the M?d toiLe^~'"!^, <«^-'ty along all the
rupta, they did norfTaTthalf Wde th' "r.""^"" ^''■
tion; onthecontr^y. i^illiatt::.''S ZIT^^
Srx rrce?.:L^t-r ""^^^^^^^^^
to aU who will r^ad ttHn^^lf ^ circumstances, open
drew upon themse^e'^e eS:^'^^''*''^'"."' ^'""^
1343. The Bardi who > T^^ !? * *''* a^""*^ Peopl« "»
street between rhe\wobri5^s ket ttr"'"' '"* '""">-
panthers at bay aminaf h^! ' ? ^^* narrow inlets, like
Z were onljmafe to rive w«yT^ «'"^'''°'"' °^ *^« P«°Ple,
behind them.' Srt^ZT/ tS Hve? ^thr 'It '^
twenty-two (^«%i e .a,« ^ w/) VeJe saL^ T?*^' °'
and many among the chief of Se ^ho bore the BarH ""''
were driven from the city. But an MH wi .• . ' "^me
and contrasts of dignity ^dd?,,Z 7 f^ ''"'^itude.
92
ROHOLA.
But aieBwdi never resumed their proprietorship in the old
street on the banks of the river, which in 1492 had long been
Msoojated with other names of mark, and especially with the
Nen, who possessed a considerable range of houses on the side
toward the hul.
In one of these Neri houses there lived, however, a de-
scendant of the Bardi, and of that very branch which a cen-
tury and a half before had become Counts of Vemlo- a de-
scend^t who had inherited the old family pride and energy,
the old love of pre-eminence, the old desire to leave a lasl^e
track of his footsteps on the fast-whirling earth. But the
family passions lived on in him under J<--ed conditions : this
descendant of the Bardi was not a man swut in str- .,t warfare,
or one who loved to play the signor, fori;ifying strongholds and
asserting the right to hang vassals, or a merchant and usurer
of keen daring, who delighted in the generalship of wide
commercial schemes: he was a man with a deep-veined hand
cramped by much copying of manuscripts, who ate sparing din-
ners, and wore threadbare clothes, at first from choice and at
last from necessity; who sat among his books and his marble
fragments rf the past, and saw them only by the light of
those far-off younger days which still shone in his memory
he was a moneyless, blind old scholar— the Bardo de' Bardi to
whom Nello, the barber, had promised to introduce the youne
Greek, Tito Melema. "
The house in which Bardo lived was situated on the side of
the street nearest the hill, and was one of those large sombre
masses of stone building pierced by comparatively smaU win-
dows, and surmounted by what may be called a roofed terrace
or loggia, of which there are many examples still to be seen in
the venerable city. Grim doors, with conspicuous scrolled
hinges, having high up on each side of them a small window
defended by iron bars, opened on a groined entrance-court;,
tiTf "' f"'«™''°S ">« 1><»"^ vergogno^in other worf., paupers of
acertamG.roIan.0 in this century who was reduced to suchart^tTof
poverty ^at he wa« obliged to eeelc charity for the mere mc«n. o? tl
THE BLDO, SCHOLAR AND HIS DArOHOTtR «
•aptjr of everything but a mBsaiira l.™„ •
the centre of tibe groin A 83,^^!?°° ""r""**"* ^^
«i>nitted to the stone stairtas^ld ^ •*°°"°'t«l«ft hand
floor. These last were mied La^l ^ ^?'' "" *^« 8~>«d
-was the first floorra^rLrhter^^Sri^^"''?-?""'''''!
destined to be carried som« ^!? . '?" P™'"°""*°'m,
Scheldt, sonietoZstresof Afrt"^' *° ""^ •"^'"' °^ tl"*
^gean, or tothe banSfTeEulr "ST^^ l^i"' °* *^«
a«^ when he returned bolTeUer^^i^'^t^'r^-
cheap vegetables, had to make Tin ^-f„ ^ *** "'""^ o*
Story before heTeaohed Ih^ d^r 1/v '*^ "^ *° '*'« ««««d
which we are aboTt^ eSr'X a Jewr **'' ^''°' *~"«''
conversation with the (Jreek mornings after NeUo's
left'?a^?tLS=:';^r.Te'^' *<'»!•••'>- ^ '-«
^ooksinaudnoA whutaTCXg v K', ^1^"''
are come back, Maso. It is well w^I ^ ' ■^^' y°»
The voice came fron. li7£her:n?;raT'"°*^«-"
room surrounded with shelves oT-hi iJ^l, I ""^ "Pacious
were arranged in scrupS:^'XS^e^'^»-'' antiquities
rate stands in front of the .hVl™. ^^ *^®^' °° ««?»-
feminine torso; a heall^sSurwri K h' •^"'""^
arm wielding a bladeless rw-TJi j ?^ "pWted muscular
lin.bs severed from the trrt- "^J'^^^^'^Plod, infantine
cold marble, some weSfpSe^^^^L^'n '?" *° ^^^ «">
threevasesfromMagnaoZL A ,?"'",•'"'*''' ""^ ''» or
was covered with ^fon- Z , "^'^ *^^^^ ^ «>« centre
dark pottery "X of rereo?''!'^'^ '""^ "'''''«^'' '"^
sombre: the^eUum btdi^lf ;'^°''2fr T """f' ^'^'"^
gave little relief tothe 3e 1 Wd 'L 7""1f "^ ^^''
once splendid patoh of carpet a't S^ rd'of'"Se ' *'"
had long been worn to dimness- the rflrt K ® "^"^
light upon them to bringZtthei^ tint „f ^'"'*'' ^"^^^ '^■
was not yet high enoueh to LnH i ^ I «"*'°' ^^ *J»« ««"
i"g before a carved /«<7ar n?™!^- eighteen, who was stand-
Ij"i
•• BOMOLA.
dial, gold color, enriched by an unbroken imall ripnle. mok
•aw, from which it rippled forward again, and made a nat^
or aerge. Her eyes were bent on a large volume nlaoed^ft™^
her., on. long white hand rested on the readin^dedTand S!
other clasped the back of her father's chair. ' *'
The blind father sat with head uplifted and turned a littl.
« de toward his daughter, as if he were looking^ her ai!
delicate paleness, setoff by the black velvet ofp wMoh ^
ble the likeness between his aged features and ZbVT^^
CL" Th' ''"' l""""" """ '^'^ -•'•'-' "^y tinged?
■IIT' ^''"^ ''"' *h« """« refinement of brow and nostril
rnboth, counterbalanced by a full though firm mo^trwid r^^
Sttm^'etTor' **'" "^ ^P'ession of proud tTnad^^Cd
latent impetuousness : an expression carried out in the h«*
w^ poise of the girl's head, and the gra^d iSL S her n«k'
.T„ * .k"" V ^T* "■«""«« *«"" tl'* «■»'• But the ev^
wl*S'"/'"*ir«x'^''"^''"' ""d the eyes of the daS*
«3^?r7^*"""^" °y°P'' »' Thebes named Chariclo
leiresias. But once when in the heat of summer Pallas, in
ZS:t '^"""'°' T •"''^«»'" disrordSmifX
fhurT ^'PP°P""«' '* ^>W«"«d that Teiresias coming m
tent y L aeld Mmerva unveiled, and immediately bec^e blind
For It IS declared in the Satumian laws, that he whrLCi;
J^nX' "l^t.*^^" ^^> shall ato;e for it by a h^vv
penalty. . . When Teiresias had fallen into thU cilaSaTt7
PaUas. moved by the tears of Chariclo. endow^ £"°;^
THB BUSD SCHOLAR AND HIS DATOHTBR BB
«> that an oracle sS f^m hU tomh I/T* ""• '^"^
emendations in it whToh C^lf!' '"L ■■ "'^'' *°' ^ """^«
any man. I finished iMnTI^T { '^*° communicated to
ing me7' ^ ^*'^^' ''''*" ""^ "'81'* 'as fast fail-
Bomola walked to the farther bt,^ «* iv
iiii
^ BOMOLA.
fee. mtut Buwly mak« ite w.y through the dark obrtruotion
that shut out ererything else. At that moment the doubtful
attraobvenessofEomola'sfaoe, in which pride and pauion
seemed to be quivering in the baknoe with native refinement
and mtelligenoe, was transfigured to the most lovable woman-
liness by mingled pity and affection; it was evident that the
deepest fount of feeling within her had not yet wrought it*
way to the less changeful features, and only found its outlet
through her eyes.
But the father, unconscious of that soft radiance, looked
flushed and agitated as his hands explored the edges and back
of the large book.
•• The vellum is yeUowed in these thirteen years, Eomola."
Yes, father," said Eomola, genUy; "but your letters at
tte back are dark and plain stUl-fine Eoman letters ; and the
Greek character," she continued, laying the book open on her
other's knee, "is more beautiful than that of any of your
bought manuscripts." '
"Assuredly, chUd," said Bardo, passing his finger aorosa
irL^'- *? ** ^* ^°P*^ *° "iisorimmate line and margin.
What hired amanuensis can be equal to the scribe who loves
the words that grow under his hand, and to whom an error op
indistinctness in the text i^ inore painful than a sudden dark-
ness or obstacle across his path? And even these mechanical
printers who threaten to make learning a base and vulgar
thing-even they must depend on the manuscript over which
we scholars have bent with that insight into the poet's meaning
which IS closely akin to the men, divinior of the poet himself •
unless they would flood the world with grammatical falsitieil
and inexplicable aaolnalies that would turn the very fountain
of I'arnassus into a deluge of poisonous mud. But find the
passage m the fifth book, to which Poliriano refers-I know
it very well."
Seating herself on a low stool, close to her father's knee,
Romola took the book on her lap and read the four verses co?-
tainmg the exclamation of Actceon.
"It is true, Eomola," said Bardo, when she had finished:
It IS a true conception of the poet; for what is that grosser,
narrower light by which men behold merely the petty soen^
Mbon., «d make, ol^tou/ Se f.>r "^ "^"^ '^^ '"e of
who hay. reaped the great hl^l T/",!' '^' ^'^"^^
their furrows? For me. HnZfi '"'* '•** »■ »<> glean in
--. With the great d.M I fted"°.vl"\' ~"'' ^ S
weaed to me mere «)eotre«llw' *V* *•"» «^i"«^n
feehng«,di„telligen^^'r;;^;"f7'J«f ^^^^^ »' ^«
Pohziano, with that .„p;Xj^„'l'*^«I'«ffli», to whom
to him compares our inquT.itiveX "'^ "^^^ ^ '"" »<>* deny
on their eyes when they went It f"'^**' *«''«"" they put
they got home againTFhr^e ret/r^l^'r'* '^^ «"•» off ^h«
.treete as from a foigotteTd^^^'iT *''« """""o of th"
my books, saying with Petr«rn. ^i! ^^' '«* ^own amonir
lectant, colloquuntur, oonsulunt !? • ''" "«dullitus de-
"f J^ '"""iliaritate j^.gun'S?': "' "^^ «'»<J*« nobis atqa,
Petrarca, fcth'er!''''.^! rLT '"t^P'"' "«« yoi' farorit,
old n=a„.s disposition i Sat^t '^^''o--'^ humori^;Tht
i^.riJiThi«rLS^?-^^^^^^
^'•s::^rf!Se~-spr."---
that great work in which I had del'^'l ^'PfPiloi diough
firm web, all the threads rt.* ^ *° 8»"ier, as into a
^tangled, and whth tuS^^^ Cn*^' ""-^ ^''^™-? di«-
'^ out off by the failure of my It ^^ '"""«« "^ ""/««.
"oadjutor. For the BustL^ed feSt, ""^ '■"* °f "^ fitting
demanded from those whrwouM^^f "v'^"^"*''''>'^« Patience
knowledge are still le« 7^ •, T,'' *^* °°'*»ten ^ths of
-agrantp™p,n3ityo/4™,~abIe with the wafde^R
powers of the feJnine bLly" " '^^ ^ ^^^ the feebk
• ^'"'"'"'"•^.?-°^ with a sudden flush
look out
want*
any
[read anything you wish
in an in-
'■^•^T^zr^'.iZi^^
yoo
ROXOLA.
Ml
Bwdo ihook hit head, and smiled with a bittw lortaf pity.
"▲• wall tiy to be a pentathloa and perform all the five feati
of the palaetra with the limbe of a nymph. Have I forgotten
thjr fainting in the mere searoh for the referenoei I needed to
•xplain a liugle paasage of Callimaohui? "
" But, father, it waa the weight of the hooka, and Maao can
help me; it was not want of attention and patience."
Bardo shook his head again. " It is not mere bodily organs
that I want : it it the sharp edge of a young mind to pierce the
way for my somewhat blunted faculties. For blindness acts
like a dam, sending the streams of thought backward along
the already-travelled channels and hindering the course on-
ward. If my son had not forsaken me, deluded by debasing
fanatical dreams, worthy only of an energumen whose dwell-
ing is among iombs, I might have gone on and seen my path
broadening to the end of my life ; for he was a youth of great
promise. . . . But it has closed in now," the old nan con-
tinued, after a short pause ; " it has closed in now ; — all but
the narrow track he has left me to tread — alone in my blind-
ness."
Bomola started from her seat, and carried away the large
volume to its place again, stung too acutely by her father's
last words to remain motionless as well as silent; and when
the turned away from the shelf again, she remained standing
at some distance from him, stretching her arms downward
and clasping her fingers tightly as she looked with a sad
dreariness in her young face at the lifeless objects around her
— the parchment backs, the unchanging mutilated marble, the
bits of obsolete bronze and clay.
Bardo, though usually susceptible to Bomola' s movements
and eager to trace them, was now too entirely preoccupied by
the pain of rankling memories to notice her departure from
his side.
" Yes," he went on, "with my. son to aid me, I might have
had my due share in the triumphs of this century ; the names
of the Bardi, father and son, might have been held reverently
on the lips of scholars in the ages to come; not on account of
frivolous verses or philosophical treatises, which are snpe
fluous and presumptuous attempts to imitate the inimitable,
r« th. J^?r.bTpogS. Sd ^^'Z"^• ""^ '"^ 'Woh
might have .tudied the .uor.™.!.*^!^ f '"^P "'"'"by men
why i- . young n..n l7eTo!i&"7 °' "■" P*" ^^
whM I wa. already held worthl f ('^^ '*» ""t yet born
with Thoma. of 8ar^L. tol";?/,,^""'"'^ " '""'""<'»
•nentator on the Pandeoli_wh J i. | ° ' V^"'' " » <"»»-
offen^ to me, and who wanderf pufbD "'""- ^"'° " "
bou. fancies that marked tSe d!oC"r„1 """J* "" ""P*""-
•nd philo«,phy, to descend t^ pHtlrit^' °T "' "'' "'«"*"«>,
of Platoniem, while I, whotrLorl\l''',r.''y '"«^P"-'
not effected anything 'out «oa^«H 1 u V ' "''"*^' ''»^«
propriated by other LnWhy^uT'li ""'"^ "'" »« "P"
I had brought up to replenish my r^n JT "" "^ ""•• ^^om
wterprise, left me and^l XrS „««.!?""« "'^ y°"n«
bunself and howl at midnlhrli^ThT" ""* ^^ ""'Rbt J^h
highinindignantprotestfeutto'at^ """'f' "''•* h«<» ""^
lous and plaintive that TomoCt™^ v°^ "^"^^ "» t^'"""-
ibe blind aged face, felt hr^e^".':fu''"2'? "«"^ *"''«-»
She seated herself h/ her fafi. • '^"* forgiving pity
o« his kBee-toopr^uSV:?^'*'"-' rt^'-^ befCi
might seem like a vindication SerT^^'T '° ''°'^' ">»*
"•^YrHo^i^r &:^^^^^^^^ "' """'
kand, withitsm^assiv pltLticr""^'?; '""^^ ^■' '•«
dy on Ae delicate biue-vXd Wk nfT' "^^ " ""'"• *°° beav-
?be bit her lip to prevent herSfl" '""''' "«'''' «» *bat
Florenceonly is to Member me^t'""" 'T^^8- "« even
g^Jund tbat it will remember nIc^IA^-'v'"' °» *^« """e
«ook the vulgar pursmt of wLlthl^ n """"-'^'"''■^ ^ ^°''
devote myself to'«,llectingtt^p^Tourr"" *^' ^ "''»''*
«ns. ButwhydoXsarS-J^o^Srifl^erreS:
iTi:
"* ROMOLA.
bm 111% wUl not the world nmnnber a»T . . , T«t,» MldMl
BMdo, aftxr a thort pauia, hU roio* faUing uain into a lad-
«T^ Vt "^""°'« untimely death hu raiMd a new diffl-
oulty. I had hit promii^I ihould have had hit bond-that
mj ooUeotion .hould alwajri bear my nwne and should nerer
be lold, though the harpiea might olutoh ererything elie: bat
there « enough for them-the™ ie more than enough-and for
the^ too Romola, the.o Mil be enough. Beridee, thou wUt
marry J Bernardo reproaohei me that I do not eeek a fittine
dt^ for thee, and we will delay no longer, we will think
','^°' °°> '•">«■« '>»»' oouW you do? beddee, it U ueelea:
wait till some one leeks me," said Bomola, hartily.
' "^^R "y o^"^' ^^'■^ >» ""ot th« paternal duty. ' It was not
so Held by the anoiente, and in this respect Florentines hare
not degenerated from their ancestral customs "
"But I will study diligenUy," said Komola, her eyes dUat-
Fedele : I w,U try and be as usetul to you as if 1 had \ma a
boy, and then perhaps roi- jntt scholar will want to marry
me, and wUl no» mind about a dowry; and he wUI like to
come and live with you, and he will be to ytm in place of my
brother . , . and you wiU not be sony that I was a daughter "
There r-cj a rising sob in Bomola's voice u she said the
last words, which touched the fatherly fibre in Bardo He
stretched hU hand upward a little in search of her golden hair,
and as she placed her head under his hand, he gently stroked
i^^leanmg toward her as if his eye, discerned some glimmer
.„1k*^' ^°°'^'* "^ ^ •*'** °°* ""i " I ^^' pronounced an
anathema on a degenerate and ungrateful son, I said not-tiat I
could wish thee other than the sweet daughter thou hast been
to me. For what son could have tended me so gently in the
frequent sickness I have had of late? And even in learning
thou art not, according to thy measure, contemptible. Some-
thmg perhaps were to be wished in thy capacity of attention
uid memory, not incompatible even with the feminine mind.
But as Caloondila bore testimony, when he aided me to teach
thee, thou hast a ready apprehension, and even a wide-glano-
ttf ^.i' • '"" ^ ''•»• boon o.«KV '"v " ""^ "«>""«
tt.<i«bMingiaau.noeof throi!;i. J'fP ""• "^oof from
frivolity «d their .nirviT/.u^^J!!;:::*"' ">•'' .parruw-lik^
J.^wh.ahad«,l„e,7;^;^J^fJ.f7 with "" •»'"«
woo again waa indebted fn,Vk . ' . ■*"'"'«"»' of PUutu..
It '-I cannot boaat that ^ou ^l'" T'' V'' "■«" *«• P«Jor
owor category to which Jfrtur.^rW'^'"'' out ofVC
ta«^dition thou art onaCwitt^h". „""•'. "•" •^•'> '^
«rf thw age, thou art. mv^tZ °""* ^''ra'd women
«* mr aweet danrtter .^5^ ""« ""» tendemew^ "thou
tt-fl-te. 'duIci^"f„::'ii£^^j^->«i.Mth, W.r'^ot^;
■*ienn' according to thechoiiY^ ^^ ' *""" *«" «* «uribu.
'^o tell, me thS.^^''°i"7°''J« »' "^^^i*^; and Be"!
n-a of the n.omi.g.'Ilf^'d'^^.fy ^' '' «''• ^he brighj-
^ radian.e from*thee ^r. 1 1^^*° ""f "«' ^ '««*'«
*W« room, but thv form r ~:r ""^ ^"^ aU elae looV. in
tb. little ;oma„T;'Sr 1^ S^'l. ?<« "^no W^
"•Mi thou art tall, and^y ^ .^'/l^*^ '" »• into dafk-
«w walk together. » ^ ^ " •>"* ""!• below mine. i2t
*»di^ei TkrCj Sri TT "' *^"« •--- 0'
kere, and placed in hi. rfgh?^r^« ^^ ^" »"» ''^^bin
the aide of hi. chair. 'V^uT .*** •'"'^ ""oh rested at
Tf'i 1""% more thT^St!"'" ^"^ been .itting, he had
thatrefined texture in wWch^ fnk,^' ^Tr' *'°"8'» P^«. had
bnt now that he began to wa^l-^'r? '««""• "'verdee^
w..-rathermorelL.,ev,S^^V°t'^ " "^^ « ^^ «>X
the student's .toopTtheaClL \^^ 'P"« ^'-^e had
"^"Not '^* °' "■* bli^d "' ■"" '"' '"'PPod with tie
•«plore the familiar outiiae w^^ I'? **' ^"^ *^" h« "nigh
*^ be nothing el.etopZr:rt;ir.'r/" "^«*
62
ROHOLA.
my name as a member of the great republic of letters— noth-
ing but my library and my collection of antiquities. And
they are choice," continued Bardo, pressing the bust and
speaking in a tone of insistence. " The collections of Niccol6
I know were larger ; but take any collection which is the work
of a single man— that of the great Boccaccio even— mine will
surpass it. That of Poggio was contemptible compared with
mme. It will be a great gift to unborn scholars. And there
18 nothing else. For even if I were to yield to the wish of
Aldo Manuzio when he sets up his press at Venice, and give
him the aid of my annotated manuscripts, I know well what
would be the result: some other scholar's name would stand
on the title-page of the edition— some scholar who would have
fed on my honey, and then declared in his preface that he had
gathered it all himself fresh from Hymettus. Else, why have
I refused the loan of many an annotated codex? why have I
refused to make public any of my translations? why? but be-
cause scholarship is a system of licensed robbery, and your man
m scarlet and furred robe who sits in judgment on thieves is
himself a thief of the thoughts and the fame that belong to
his fellows. But against that robbery Bardo de' Bardi shall
struggle— though blind and forsaken, he shall struggle. I
too have a right to be remembered— as great a right as Pon-
tanus or Merula, whose names wUl be foremost on the lips of
posterity, because they sought patronage and found it; be-
cause they had tongues that could flatter, and blood that was
used to be nourished from the cUent's basket. I have a right
to be remembered."
The old man's voice had become at once loud and tremu-
lous, and a pink flush overspread hU proud, delicately out
features, while the habitually raised attitude of his head gave
the idea that behind the curtain of his blindness he saw some
imaginary high tribunal to which he was appealing against the
injustice of Fame.
Bomola was moved witU sympathetic indignation, for in
her nature too there lay tie sama large claims, and the same
spmt of struggle against their . lenial. She tried to calm her
father by a still prouder word than his.
"Nevertheless, father, it is a great f Ift of the gods to be
THK BLIKD 8CH0LAB AND HIS BACGHTKB. 63
never , We shared hoS, ""a t'd'?''' '^'^ '^'=W«'^
streag -a in «»„, „ there wm ,?ri, ^ J^^?"""- ^''«'« "
-«nUcame insensible rwl;:^d^^""^«l W by which
he had beg^n. to Te^ on his I'v " ''"'" '°'«^'^ - ''Wch
"And I indeed am no^to be DLolA'^r' ^^ *° '"^ <>°-
My armor is the «, <W»L of «T ^ *^^ '^'^'^ "^ ^"''^.e.
nourished by the prSs of ntf' """'"'^^o^. a-^d a mind
Epictetu, . L disCeTU b^S'^he* ^T '°*°'' -^'
their opinions or thouRhts lonL^^^.^^'^^'"^ ''"' ^y
again, 'whosoever wiU be frrirv* *'"""' *^'°8«-' ^nd
that which is in theTwe^ of !?;>. -^ °°* -^^-^^ °' d'ead
otherwise, he is a sW Lf oTalf \*° ''"^ "' "««*'
pendent on the caprice of for^,n ^ '""^ 8^**« as are de-
jearned to say, Jlml^^^'^^Z' ' T ^°°« "^^
mhxs philosophy, vacUlatingIe°;in tir'n'" *"? '""^'^^
and the less worthy maitims of S P'/''*^** °* ^eno
we say, 'duabus seUis seXetSll^i^'^' T"'^*^"^' ■«■
I Bay. with the pregnant brevity of re^tf- ""^ '"^'^"''^
_ *"""">"' °»'«'l«-t,e,rtqmnon curat habere.
wl^;1SVa;^plSyt ri^' '"'^ "«•» -^«°- Of
tributes men pay rlA^C'^,''^}^ j'"*'^ *« «"«
also matters of purchase, ^d oL^ w^ J*"'' ^^«''«™
;^^.-hoUow, emp^lis the^^lthTtlus^/ ^we J^n
Bar'J^sS-tr^mtrrwlTJ: ?"■« "^^ *^^ ^^^
which had been moving hTm^ ^7/1!' **" P""""*
parchment and hung round h»^Jl-^ ** "^^ '^"'te" on
presently broke forth^S t\nl 1! ^''^^ »'««• -^^ ^e
"Znanit? ves if it U » i„^ V °" "' insistence.
-eed of labor:;,d fg rVat Sor ' A",* "°* " " " ^'O i-'
not fair that the work of mv h?o I ^"^ "^ "^ht : it is
M
ROHOLA..
bear the name of another man. It is but little to ask," the
old man went on, bitterly, "that my ntsme should be over the
door — that men should own themselves debtors to the Bardi
Library in Florence. They wiU speak coldly of me, perhaps:
' a diligent collector and transcriber,' they will say, ' and also
of some critical ingenuity, but one who could hardly be con-
spicuous in an age so fruitful in illustrious scholars. Yet he
merits our pity, for in the latter years of his life he was blind,
and his only son, to whose education he had devoted his best
years ' Nevertheless, my name will be remembered, and
men will honor me : not with the breath of flattery, purchased
by mean bribes, but because I have labored, and because my
labors will remain. Debts! I know there are debts; and
there is thy dowry, Eomola, to be paid. But there must be
enough— or, at least, there can lack but a small sum, such as
the Signoria might well provide. And if Lorenzo had not
died, all would have been secured and settled. But now . . ."
At this moment Maso opened the door, and advancing to
his Piaster, announced that Nello, the barber, had desired him
to say, that he was come with the Greek scholar whom he had
asked leave to introduce.
" It is well, " Baid the old man. " Bring them in. "
Bardo, conscious that he looked more dependent when he
was walking, liked always to be seated in the presence of
strangers, and Eomola, without needing to be told, conducted
him to his chair. She was standing by him at her full height,
in quiet majestic self-possession, when the visitors entered;
and the most penetrating observer would hardly have divined
that this proud pale face, at the sUghtest touch on the fibres
of affection or pity, could become passionate with tenderness,
or that this woman, who imposed a certain awe on those who
approached her, was in a state of girlish simplicity and igno-
rance concerning the world outside her father's books.
DAWNING H0PB8.
6S
CHAPTER VI.
DAWNIlrO HOPES.
senting to you the Greek scLltwH" ^ ^ ' °* P'"'
apeechof y^u, notlesrwi^Vi'll'^Uft;^^^^^^
sient need T^iSh^hT "T ^J^}^ ""''«' t^« t^"""
for the oLu>g bX^hTsSd noi^of r'r' \,*'^""''
appearance; and among heTfa^eX *. if , "*^ ""^^ °'
had hardly ever a^L, I f -L, ^•'^"'"r^y ^"ito™, she
men. There wasTn^vZ^- middle-aged or gray-headed
on her mind; iTt^Zt^fllt "T"^^. ^'^^^^ ^P"«««d
had taken y^eronZtl^i^LTSr'j}" '°°« ^'"^ "«"
•gain: a fair face, with sr^y hair StrL" '"'S' ^^
habitual attitude of her .«Z?^ !, *' *"'°- ^"* ths
depend«>ce 1 d«"atilt"al' foT'^oV ^"""* ."""
•mile-confirmed in her bv her fefW ,^"'«' ^"^^ ^^ »
world's injustice wasTike An » ""mphiints against the
therushof aargsij^r K^'rr ''T"'"* ^
rioh-tiuted beauty withour,n; ■ ^ f*'^* **"^ '''°''<«i it*
-> or tunio ^^^le4":'^^i;fr'-/,^/e his black
of «pring, dropped suddrivT, p , T"^^^ '''*" » '"«»«'
life.VchhaKrSnSh^^.t.r'"'' ^"""^ ""* ''^''^
a dead mother, of a ^SSr.'of a bHTrTT"" "'
tune-memories Of afar^ff ligli^i^.tj ^X'thaTl^
66
ROMOLA.
^.' :1,
*
'1.::::f
mbedded in dark mines of books, and could hardly rive out
torch n?^ t" '^ "^'"^ '^"^ '"" ^^^'^ f" Wy Zl
b^w mlZ' ^°^" ^°y- ^^-^rtJ^oJe-B, she returned Ti.^'
bow made to her on entering, with the same pale proud f«,^
as ever; but, as he approached, the snow melted, ^d wh^
ing, a pink flush overspread her face, to vanish again jdC.t
^ediate y, as if her imperious wUl had recalM it Ws
fcCh r*""^' ^ «"»*««"««'. beseeching ackiration
m It which 18 the most propitiating of appeals to I p3 shv
woman, and is perhaps the only atoneme^ a ma^^c^ m£
for being too handsome. The finished fascination of hiT^r
Ht, vn, 1 ^f^ soft-coated, dark-eyed animal that de-
lights you by not bounding away in indifference from von
and unexpectedly piUows its chin on your palm, aid l^ks^^
at you desiring to be stroked-as if it loved you ^
Messere, I give you welcome, " said Bardo, with some con-
descension, "misfortune wedded to learning I^desriX
to Greek learning, is a letter of credit that shoZ wK e^
Sedthelilt.fr f" .~»°'^y"^. ManueloCrisolora,
doused the light of his teaching in the chief cities of ItalV
of IhT^ t"?*"'^ "«"' "° """^ " J'^W worthy ome nZ;
of scholar who has acquired merely the transphited^dTe-
nvative literature of the Latins /rather, suchkert stodenL
are sti^atized as opici or barbarians according to tiie ph^
at S f^ZZ fr'r' '^°^"«^ly "Plen^hed thei?!^
at the fountain-head. I am, as you perceive, and as Nello^
douMess forewarned you, totally bli^d: a ^amij to wS
^!d rds'":^.' """'i ""P'^^J^ """«• wbethero^g to tS
cold winds which rush upon us in spring from the pisses of
rfl^T"""? ~ *" ""* ""^'^'"^ ^^*^^ from tte co^I
ZamJc .f '• 'Ti "" '"'^ ^ ^^« '^^ """le so nuTe^
Xr ?l *°°""* ^°"^'' °^' ««"«. tosome occult cauw
T^ch eMes our superficial surmises. But I pray youT
seated: Nello, my friend, be seated." ' ^
Bardo paused untU his fine ear had assured him that the
DAwumo HopBs. er
areeoe do you come? •' ""^ "''** P^t "f
"I saUed last from Nauplia," said Tito- "haf T ),.„
I spent the first skteenTar" of ^v^if^'' ''""'* ^ari.
and SioUy." ^ "* ""y ^« "> Southern Italy
leaned forward/pnfoutW^riit^^l^f '''''*; ^*"«''; "«
turned his head a's if atSto f^aSl^Tut ^en"'' n'
« T.™ !t ' ^ * true— you are young? " ^
« A ?^, ''"fi^-and-twenty, » said Tito.
-r.i
ROUOLA.
when h? takes tie sS^^Ws S ": " ^ "1**"^ '^»y'^
«' Perdonlmi sMo fcllo: ohl m'uooltA
Intenda 11 mio relgar col ouo latlna • »
dieted; but still more if you had nl? m '^«'««»'^«ly ad-
oeits of a period t^m. «,««„■* ™ ^'^''» <»■ oo""
nioastrosiroi W JtrL'"f^'"8 ^ Md a warrant for
-trosi., - -ui«^%rmySir;5at«?^ r-"--
title contrast with the great VOf^m^tvlS^VLr^^
held with Filelfo, before LandSno h^ S'uln\- 1'°°*
pound the same opinion, embodied riu-Z.!!?? "° *° "'
losophy in a graceful and welStSble ^dT" l^"'
regard the multiplication of th^f ^SingflJwleTJ^S
DAWNDfO HOPES. gg
true learning m a si™ tw^,, ?"*"' "^"'^i"^ a friend to
are to l» q^eZTg^tfl^TC 'Z' S' *''r'"*"^
delusive prologue to an a™ Jn .lii, .v ^ '**''^ ">»«" «>•
of tinsel Ld go8s<m,eT T Ztl ^"^ *^"' °' iron-the ag»
enough to be rSrinScrnsinTandTl' '? '^'''^
"Once more, nardon " ..VJ^w n ** '"**^8 ^^a-"
ward, and shr^STis s^^'^i'^^tl^, P"^ ont-
many things in aood Ti.»Pnn klV t\ "y"^* knowing so
the Latin V tt^i^rd i^LuiSn'^"^ '° '''"'^ °'
elippmg off the lips of my cmZ«« *^fK ^^'^"l "*' •^""J"'
me. And, indeed LltinJ ""' . ^ ="*''*' " "J'at oorrnpts
and my repuStTo W in ^'"""'"j ^ ^"^^ ^«f» "^^ "h^op
who loes IrCetl evfn to bT n J °' "^ "'"^ ^""^™'
but rather to bepronorL , '^^!'* " '"'"'^ inegualU,
tongue. So with vrrT ^ "^'^ * '""'S''"- i" the vulgai
myTeav JleTuVd^^^nTu^rrvor-' ' ""' ^^-^
ever Maso calls upon me. K seemTa t/ " T'"" ''''<""
at:rthrhre:s*L\rTF^--^^^^ '--"
.-S^tr^rdwthrbowT^vvn'^r^''"^ *° ^""O'
acute barber saw tiiat tL ^^ " *""* " '^"^ '° ^ito. The
into his liki^; w *^* *3^; Pf ^ y^-goter, who had crept
«.j»«d Tito „«. .ifl.°ff„'2*'iss: "" " ""
agents oJ a ao^ rrtS't^? "*'"'«' *° ""' ""«P* ^^^''gl' th^
Kims. CtCi1Jrn:r'i'r^^ °'W
-^witne.ed.whenme^n^re'A„tpl^t-:r^S/,^
n
ROUOLA..
\s»m
I .; -^ ' I',
I: '( ■! .
to fliMoe u to a atorehouw, and nmo back laden with
mpjiunonpu which every leholar wa« jager to borrow— and,
be It owned with ahame, not always wUling to restore: nay,
•Ten the days when erudite Greeks flocked to our shores for
• refuge seem far off now— farther off than the on-coming of
my blindness. But doubUess, young man, research after the
treasures of antiquity waa not alien to the purpcae of your
travels?" '
"Assuredly not," said Tito. "On the contrary, my oom-
^lon— my father— was wiUing to risk his life in his zeal for
the discovery of inscriptions and other traces of ancient oiviU-
zation."
"And I trust there is a record of his researches and their
results," said Bardo, eagerly, "since they must be even more
precious than those of Ciriaco, which I have diligently availed
myself of, though they are not always illuminated bv ade-
quate learning."
"There wtu such a record," said Tito, "but it was lost, like
everything else, in the shipwreck I suffered below Ancona.
The only record left is auch as remains in our— in my
memory."
"You must lose no time in committing it to paper, young
man," said Bardo, with growing interest "Doubtless you
remember much, if you aided in transcription; for when I was
your age> words wrought themselves into my mind as if they
had been fixed by the tool of the graver; wherefore I oon-
stontiy marvel at the oapriciouaness of my daughter's memory,
which grasps certain objects with tenacity, and lets faU all
thoae minutiffl whereon depends accuracy, the very soul of
acholarship. But I apprehend no such danger with you, young
man, ifyourwUl has seconded the advantages of your train-
ing." ^' '
When Bardo made this reference to his daughter, Tito ven-
tored to turn his eyes toward her, and at the accusation against
her memory his face broke into its brightest smUe, Trhich
was reflected as inevitably as sudden sunbeams in Eomola's
Ccmceive the soothing delight of that smUe to herl Bomola
had never dreamed that there was a scholar in the world who
would smile at a deficiency for which she waa oonatantly made
DAWNINO H0PB8. 7,
from each other in,mediatelt«.?;i. % ^'^ °°' '°°k away
one, they looked aTd 3' ". w*^\"'°"» J""! «^" a .tolen
"She i. not reaUv ,o^w i "^^ enjoyment.
qufel?*" ""^ »"'«'"» 'o *»'» away. a:.d an.wer Bardo'.
i" Tz":' re:ripC?:" ^r^'p*'""'" ^« -'^i -but
dered doubly imprS T; th?"*^ '° 5''""°""« '«»'"'. «n-
"•ay have happened rat^*^'7''«°' "'"^ ""^ adventure, it
ha. been weakened On the^Ja,^°*r..°* r'""" ""^"-'"'tU
tte gigantic stone, of Myce?^ .^d°Tv '' '"^'^' °"^°°8
the fear of the Turk hovwfover Zt ,^f """-'"P^iaUy when
jander., even though th: Cd^Hte 'fai5,^^^-*« ""^"^
dictate.. But somithing doubaJlf ? ^"'"""y what the eye
T>to, with a modeety whfch waVn^ L^^Z "'^T'"''" "'^'''''J
Boious that it wa. politic " .omffS 1 ' *''°"8^ ^« ^a. con-
if illu.trated and edited b v a 1^7 f"* '?'«''* ^« »' ""-vice
" That i. well .pok"n TouL wider learning than my own. "
"And I wiU notSh'ofdfrLTu at' m"'°' ^^'^"^"^
it you like to communicate wTX T- "'' "i** •« ^ ""»° P^«S
tion.. I fore.ee a work whirh win ,^°"''"°^» y°" "<»"~-
the ' LoUrio' of clriftoforo bT,™. ," ""'^"^ '"Pplement to
take rank with the'^ZL^T^^'"'^' "^^ which may
Ambrogio Trarer«r . bT we mu.T^° '^'' "'^ '''^^"We
calumny, young man." Ba^do wenTon ^^ °""'''"'"' ^°'
work were already gr^wiuR so C .w !^^ .'°"®'' *« ^ ti«
near; "if your book contain. ,^' ^^ *™« °* t^ial was
with forgery ;lf^e,°°°^'?''"°^f'«'' y°" will be charged
ciples of'^b';;4teVon adtnC .^'""^'^ "l^" with any pr^
sonal characters wm be att^^ ^ T*^" '"'^°'"' °"^ V
foul actions; you ZZ Dr^«™ ' "^f" ^ in'peached Trith
".other wa. ; fi^h-womlf ^^Z""""" *° •« t"'-! that your
T3
ROXOLA.
*V^
Oj#'i"'f!f
.(
even hideous orimei. Such, my young fri«nd-iuoh we the
Bower, with which the glorious path of soholuship is strewed t
But tell me, then: I have learned much concerning Bysan-
tium and Thessalonica long ago from Demetrio Calcondila, who
has but lately departed from Florence! but you, it seems, hare
visited less familiar scenes? "
"Yes ! we made what I may call a pilgrimage f uU of dauger,
lor the sake of visiting places which have almost died out of
the memory of the West, for they lie away from the track of
pUpims; and my father used to say that sohoUrs themselves
hardly imagine them to have any existence out of books He
was of opinion that a new and more glorious era would open
for learning when me- should begin to look for their com-
mentaries on the ancient writers in the remains of cities and
temples, nay, in the paths of the rivers, and on the face of
the valleys and the mountains."
"Ahl " said Bardo, fervently, "your father, then, was not*
common man. Was he fori;unate, may I ask? Had he many
friends?" These last words were uttered in a tone charged
with meaning.
"No; he made enemies— chiefly, I believe, by a certain im-
perious candor; and they hindered his advancement, so that
he lived m obsourily. And he would never stoop to conciliate s
he could never forget an injury."
" Ah! " said Bardo again, with a long, deep intonation.
Amrag our hazardous expeditions," continued Tito, will-
ing to prevent further questions on a point so personal, " I re-
member with particular vividness a hastily snatched visit to
Athens. Our hurry, and the double danger of being seized as
prisoners by the Turks, and of our gaUey raising anchor before
we could return, mide it seem like a fevered vision of the
night— the wide plain, the girdling mountains, the mined por-
tioos and columns, either standing far aloof, as if receding
from our hurried footsteps, or else jammed in confusedly
among the dwellings of Christians degraded into servitude, m
among the forts and turrets of their Moslem conquerors, who
have their stronghold on the Acropolis."
"You fill me with surprise," said Bardo. "Athens, then,
IS not utterly destroyed and swept away, as I had imagined."
^w^3^
DAWMma BOPB. rg
of "t?e S 'Z^:^^ "'^"'f *'* """'^•' '" "^ •««
Ufl^nrLt ^o^".*"' "■'"""« "l^"' the present oonT
Hon of Athena, or iSetine, as the Bailon ell if '^ , . °* °°°'"
- we were rounding thj promonto 70* ll J r'^"*',:
S.S h'S^ -ect-awarm, of besotted fanati^ ^
"Ferdio, 1 have no affection for them " K^ii\ Tit„ vi.
M« U we imgered till a change of wind, they would depart
nv
74
ROMOLA.
without us: bnt, after all, it wai impoHibU for ni to venture
near the Aoropoli», for the tight of men eager in ezaminiog
' old (tone* ' raised the suspicion that we were Venetian spies,
and we had to hurry back to the harbor."
" We will talk more of these things," said Bardo, eagerly.
" You must recall everything, to the minutest trace left in your
memory. You will win the gratitude of after-times by leav-
ing a record of the aspect Greece bore while yet the barbarians
had not swept away every trace of the structures that Pau-
sanias and Pliny described: you will take those great writers
as your models, and such contribution of criticism and sugges-
tion as my riper mind can supply shall not be wanting to you.
There will be much to tellj for you have travelled, you said,
in the Peloponnesus? "
"Yes J and in B<£otia also: I have rested in the gro^'es of
Helicon, and tasted of the fountain Hippocrene. But on
every memorable spot in Greece conquest after conquest has
set its seal, till there is a confusion of ownership even in ruins,
that only close study and comparison could unravel. High
over every fastness, from the plains of Laoedaemon to the straits
of ThermopyliB, there towers some huge Frankish fortress,
once inhabited by a French or Italian marquis, now either
abandoned or held by Turkish bands."
"Stay I" cried Bardo, whop- mind was now too thoroughly
preoccupied by the idea of the ...are book to attend to Tito's
further narration. "Do you think of writing in Latin or
Greek? Doubtless Grbek is the more ready clothing for your
thoughts, and it is the nobler language. But, on the other
hand, Latin is the tongue in which we shall measure ourselves
with the larger and more famous number of modem rivals.
And if you are less at ease in it, I will aid you— yes, I will
spend on you that long-accumulated study which was to have
been thrown into the channel of another work— a work in
which I myself was to have had a helpmate."
Bardo paused a moment, and then added, —
" But who knows whether that work may not be executed
yet? For you, too, young man, have been brought up by a
father who poured into your mind all the long-gathered stream
of his knowledge and experience. Our aid might be mutual."
DAWWnrO HOPES. n
MO diTined well the inrwible currenta of feeling that deto,
mined every question and remark f.lt h-,.-if • .
lest he .hould be ino°i„!^ ^ di.Jll .h *^' "^ '""'• '^™'''
Sn'^nTl'"?^"^^"^^^^^^
■teongly he would feel this if he knew aZt herTr"therI A
H.r ^.^'^ ".'"' ""^'y ^"y ^" f™™ feeling impatient H-
aoquiesoenoe which was natural to him * ""^
lastl'o^^.' ^•?'°'"* """^ '"PPy-" ''•"«'<». '» answer to Bardo's
mflT.^ ' r ', T '*'^'='"' •"" *« '■-W « ■=««' offerbg to the
matured scholarship of Messere. But doubtless "W»k
"Yon are mistaken," said Bomols- "T .». v„
*JJL aIt-.
r3M
76
SOHOU.
I
the woman's delicate frame, which ever onves repoee and
Tanety, and so begets a wandering imagination. My daugh-^
ter "—turning to Tito—" has been very preoiona to me, filling
up to the best of her power the place of a son. For I had
once a son . . ."
Bardo checked himself: he did not wish to assume an atti-
tttde of complaint in the presence of a stranger, and he remem-
bered that this young man, in whom he had unexpectedly be-
come so much interested, was still a stranger, toward whom it
became him rather to keep the position of a patron. His pride
was roused to double activity by the fear that he had forgotten
his dignity.
"But," he resumed, in his original tone of condescension,
" we are departing from what I believe is to you the most im-
portant business. Nello informed me that you had certain
gems which you would fain dispose of, and that you desired a
passport to some man of wealth and taste who would be likely
to become a purchaser."
" It is true; for, though I have obtained employment, as a
corrector with the Cenuini, my payment leaves little margin
beyond the provision of necessaries, and would leave less but
that my good friend Nello insists on my hiring a lodging from
him, and saying nothing about the rent till bettor days."
"Nello is a good-hearted prodigal," said Bardo; "and
though, with that ready ear and ready tongue of his, he is too
much like the ill-famed Margitos— knowing many things and
knowing them all badly, as I hinted to him but now— he is
nevertheless ' abnormis sapiens,' after the manner of our bom
Florentines. But have you the gems with you? I would
willingly know what they are— yet it is useless: no, it might
only deepen regret. I cannot add to my store."
" I have one or two intaglios of much beauty," said Tito,
proceeding to draw from his wallet a small case.
But Bomola no sooner saw the movement than she looked at
him with significant gravity, and placed her finger on her lips,
" Con vi«o che tacendo dloea, Tacl."
If Bardo were made aware that the gems were within reaob,
she knew well he would want a minute description of them,
mm..m
DAWSING HOPES. jj
elding the^^Vi^i'i^ti^/'^rr tr '"^"^
JwltnTi^'n-^ B!«n,andlLSStel, With-
words, "But they are usuaUv i^ th« v ^ ^^. "P '^'' '■«'
menico Cennwi. who C ,L ''•^^««P"'« of Messer Do-
things. He e'tUi^ t^em t"wo^ f ', ^IT '°' '^^^o
dneats." " '""*^ »* '""t five hundred
"Ah, then they are fine intacli " haiVI w„,.i„ <,,,. ,
hii^oVrw'f w^i^l^^-P*'"^ -"^ -d opened
face, as ifl^ JorfT a T- T""^ T^™' "' Bardo's blind
time ^hlmZZToiZTi^ "^ "^ "'""™° P"^<». »»»
iinprisonniert!!hlrhad sl^. * T'^"'*'* ^"^ '^^^^ ~
^{nextn.on>ent\1irwrirSre'™- ^"*
be her father's interpreters Sh. 1^^^, ^" "^^^ '""«'
what related to her ErLn^LU ^1^7"?'^ "''''
Wagain for some guidan'ce, SntdtSy sM """^ *"
almost sure to buvanvUfVw u .^^P^ta^o would be
he himself se^^^LZfbTrSgtdiafir..^"^'^''
as a defence against pains i/the^ 'f'*^"' "''"'"'' '««
fiden:el*^^VlE<!^f«;J^r'T--^o-™uoh con-
is sanctioned by^K^r-l^r/strsS^r ''f
r^t^r^Si^fir^ai^L^T"^^^^
^^♦liiF*^ .ij^m-it0^-
Hi
re
ROHOIiA.
Wo year, ago I had a certain infirmity of sudden numbneu.
But thou hast spoken well, Eomola. I wiU dictate a letter to
Itortolommeoj which Maso shall carry. But it were weU that
Messere should notify to thee what the gems are, together with
the intagU they bear, as a warrant to Bartolommeo that they
will be worthy of his attention."
t'l^'^^'^^''*^*^,'" *"^ ^'°°'*' ^^°^ ^^^^ l«8t a paroxysm
of the collector's mania should seize her father gave her the
courage to resist his proposal. « Your word will be sufScient
that Messere is a scholar and has travelled much. The Seore-
tano will need no further inducement to receive him "
" True, child," said Bardo, touched on a chord that was sure
to respond. " I have no need to add proofs and arguments in
confirmation of my word to Bartolommeo. And I doubt not
that this young man's presence is in accord with the tones of
his voice, so that, the door being once opened, he wiU be his
own best advocate." «« luo
Bardo paused a few moments, but his silence was evidenUy
charged with some idea that he was hesitating to express, for
he once leaned forward a little as if he were going to speak,
then turned his head aside toward Eomola and sank baokWd
agam. At hist, as if he had made up his mind, he said in a
tone which might have become a prince giving the courteous
signal of dismissal,
';i am somewhat fatigued this morning, and shaU prefer
wemg you again to-morrow, when I shaU be able to give you
^e secretary's answer, authorizing you to present yourself to
hun at some given time. But before you go "-here the old
man, in spite of himself, fell into a more faltering tone— "you
will perhaps permit me to touch your hand? It U long since
1 touched the hand of a young man."
Bardo had stretched out his aged white hand, and Tito im-
mediately placed his dark but delicate and supple fingers
within It Bardo's cramped fingers closed over them, and
he Md them for a few minutes in sUenee. Then he said,—
Bomola, has thU young man the same complexion as thy
brother— fair and pale?"
"No, father," Bomola answered, with determined compo-
sure, though her heart began to beat violently with mingled emo-
w^
DAWNING BOPES. 79
;J2^^<^ he looks^, gentle andgood-natured." TheS^d
t»Ie7'^^ ^"'^ P"™'* "y *»*''" *» fnoh his hair and
embarrassment "" '^'"companied by any sign of
on the rich oval of the cheek ^ "P*"*
brotherf EoLuT^d "L ae bIS't *" "''^ ""■'^'^ ^^^
trust, my young friend? » "" ""* '"' ''"'*""'' ^
nomoed'I ^!1T '*'«^°P«°H "^d there entered unan-
ture, and Komola rse^^e^h^ ^T ''"• ?*~P^« ^^
which implied all tC^a^ Lf™ '"',^' "'^ "^ '^'«'"'7
oompanied by any smlie ^ ^""^ " ""^ "^-
in neverthelC" "^ ^°" ^"^ » '^'t"'' but I came
" It is thou, Bernardo, " said Bardo " Ti,™, .^
fortunate moment T>, . T '^ . ^°" ^ '"'™» »t a
moment. This, young man," he continued, while
80
ROUOLA.
Tito roee and bowed, « is one of the chief citizens of KoreiioeL
Messer Bernardo del Nero, my oldeat, I had almost said my
only fnend— whose good opinion, if you can win it, may car^
you far. He is but three-and-twenty, Bernardo, yet he can
doubUess tell thee much which thou wilt care to hear: for
though a scholar, he has already travelled far, and looked im
other things besides the manuscripta for which thou hast too
light an esteem."
"Ah, a Greek, as I augur," said Bernardo, returning Tito's
reyerenoe but slightly, and surveying him with that sort of
glance which seems almost to out like fine steel "Newly
arrived in Florence, it appears. The name of Mes-'ire— or
part of It, for it is doubtless a long one? "
"On the contrary," said Tito, with perfect good humor, "it
is most modestly free from polysyllabic pomp. My name is
Tito Melema."
"Truly?" said Bernardo, rather scornfully, as he took a
seat; " I had expected it to be at least as long as the names of
a city, a nver, a province, and an empire aU put together.
We Florentines mostly use names as we do prawns, and strip
them of aU flourishes before we trust them to our thro-^s
"Well, Bardo," he continued, as if the strange- were not
worth further notice, and changing his tone of sa. ic suspi-
oiOTi for one of sadness, " we have buried him."
"Ahl » replied Bardo, with corresponding sadness, "and a
new epoch has come for Florence— a dark one, I fear. Lo-
renzo has left behind him an inheritance that is but like the
alchemist's laboratory when the wisdom of the alchemist is
gone."
"Not altogether so," said Bernardo. "Piero de> Iledici
has abundant mteUigence; his faults are only the faults of hot
blood. I love the lad-lad he wiU always be to me, as I have
always been ' little father' to him."
" Yet aU who want a new order of things are likely to con-
ceive new hopes, " said Bardo. " We shaU have the old strife
of parties, I fear."
" If we could have a new order of things that was something
else than knocking down one coat of arms to put up another "
said Bernardo^ "I should be ready to sav, ' I belong to no
^ .Mm
DAWNING HOPES. 31
•m of the same mind as Farinata deeli Vh^iL
««k8 me what is meant by siZrwirt . ^ r ""^ "^
did, ' To wish ill or wTlL Ir^^ l\ P"*^' ^ "'' «« k«
no?Sf i^l'Lt'* ''"'"^"^ ^^'•^ ""<> '-'' «*»<«"«, and
#iHSri£^^SS^
je.?^;rwtrh'^;.ts^-p:-^^^^
to send him to Bartolommeo Soala" fn^VT ! "^ ^'""K
«o. prudent in me to abstlLSi^Jr'pXr »* '""
Bernardo shrugged his shoulders and said "Wl. „u
thou see If my servant is without? 1 ordered hi™^r^*«
me here." Then when P«™„i ^ °'*'*'e<» ^lua to wait for
oare no one gets it who ia nnf ni,^i / ^ °^^' **^«
ka.
83
ROMOLA.
CHAPTER VII.
A LEARNED SQUABBLE.
Babtolommeo SoAiA, secretary of the Florentine Benublio.
on whom Tito Melema had been thus led to anchor hU ho^^
lived m a handsome palace close to the Porta Pinti. now
known as the C«,a Gherardesca. His arm,^_an azu« laddeT
h^s ascent to honors by his own efforts a fact to be proclaimed
ZTTJ^T'^- 2^'"' "^"^"^ "■" '^ "^ '^'1 pompous ma^
but he was also an honest one: he was sincerely con^kced of
hiB own merit, and could see no reason for feigning. The
«n T^\°L^^ "^^ ^'^" ^ *>««" "allied by thi!
ime: he had held his secretaryship these twenty years-had
few PsT^' h" orations on the nngkiera. or platform of
^1^» iT' « *" ""''*°°' '""^ ^ t'"*' Pwsence of princely
cZ^^n'I^ *^'^' *^" "P""""'^ "0". ''O" his grfd
crown on the occasion, and all the people cried, "Viva Mmsw
sr^rw"-'f '*•«' "" ■" '-bassy 'to zr^
^i.^?f .^n";^' f"^ ^'^*°^' ^POBtolical Seci^t^,
Knight of the Golden Spur; and had, eight years ago. been
M^^r"r:^f"^°^ "^^ Florentine^itiLn's TbitiTn
P)uty after the manner of successful mortality and the
Knight of the Golden Spur had often to sT^a Mpll
cushioned heel under the handsome loggia he had Sf^
S hL p^lS"'"'*"'"''^^'''-"' gardens'Llawn at tte 15
He was in this position on the day when he had granted th«
desired interview to Tito Melema."^ The May ^S^sl
ae loggia; the too stately silk lucco was cast aside, and the
dfu.hr'A?'"*^".'"" '^^ ''^"'' ^^"i his beautiful
daughter, Alessandra, and her husband, the Greek soldie^
poet Marullo, were seated on one side of him: on the other,
■"^m^ «^-,l.
A LBABNBD SQUABBLE. gg
the contents of cYr^ pT™™ tlf^l*^' w ""•'"Ottered by
chiefly of a oomsSX wt ' hiL^fr 5^ "^""^^
was a human foible at th»t ^*rf">"°«'W and Politian. It
to recite qCrVla Ind W T*, (?''««liM« >« ^ inay «»„,)
munication™'i^!:°^''t°^ly^it<'"with the oom-
wasneitherlrfl™t^,Thercf!r«°"'r'''»'=''' •"<» ""*»
the oandidopinion of h" Sfenr:,'^' f,' ^""'^'^ ■"^""^
wrong in some half-soore S f' *°*! ''al»°«e of right and
Politian, aIlspringin7o"tofoLi ">*"**" ''^~'^ """d
«nost playful Inet'ZltTTt :^''^.r"'"'^ ^ ^^^
typical and pretty qu^relS ,)"•"». "'"'^ "' * ^"^
it supplied preciseirSutlTof LT '^"^
to NeUo, as a etimiirs t the ^lulri^K ^^^ '"^""Tl' ^°'^^e
steed, Friendship slugpsh paces of the cautious
the'Es/axvterStrvr'i*" ^^^ '- -^
tooth in readiness againS^'no?!^'*'^ ""* '<«"<»d
.eeretary, who hadSnStt'gCS'T'TrP'"''""
a son-in-law. Scala was a mt^^^- ^°'" "^ *^» »8e for
moreover, a luckvTan^JJ, ""^ "'""' P"^'^" «"^'wt. and,
Boholar, but ttXT^rt^i»^^r'"P«™t*°8 to an offended
itch for authorship, andTw^^bi^w > °* «''"8^'-J'« l-ad an
lent people who sittLi,T„ . ^f'ter-one of those excol-
trifles»entirSfoSo^^ ^^"''PP*''' "^'^'^ r^tio^l
an audience, 211^"°^^^^'' without any Wew to
letters, which we^Th?Hta.^ ^^T *° their friends in
centuor. Now Tala hid JT f™'"'"^^ ''^ *!>« fifteenth
"^dytopraisIhfstit^S. fri^rrtt'"*"'^'' '^''<' "»«
-liable browsersrtte Med 'e^Vt ^'"^° ""^ ^^^°
who found his Latin nrn.«.f.T ^"' ^^ong with himself-
the terrible jLShSc'SrtJowrf^' '"'^ "•^^''"^-«' -^
ignorant of Latinitv waf It J? ^^^ to Pronounce him totally
century. But when was lfa?^°'**"« '^»*^«« i" the next
fluousLthorship e;r"ui?e^„S'^„X*^£^^^^ ^ ^"^-
fnends? That critical suneroiwT^ 7.- ' "^^^^^ P'""^'' of
84
BOKOU.
■olid Mentuj iliowad, in Ui lei.u» houn, • pl«M«,t f-^i.
>ty ,n verses, which indicated pretty clewly h^„«fcTl
m^ht do in that way if he were'not Lto^aJ:;;,.'""' "*
v™^I ? I' ""'"*°*' ''^*" *^« """» yo" •eo'etly hate send,
you a Latin epigram with a false gJnder-hendecasyllableJ
at t:irfl ""\' T"' "' l««t a toe too muohJ^CpU
ment had come to Politian: the secretary had nut fnrrt. T.
^ft head from the offlcial shell, and the^rriSeClfrntcib
fZnH "/r ^^: ^°"'*'^ ^^ ^ ""« freedom of a
frMnd, and pleasantly, in the form of a Latin epigram oo '
rected the mistake of Scala in making the cu^Z^JZ,
weU known on the bank, of the Arno) of ^^o^Tte^.
nme gender. Scala replied by a bad joke, in 1'^ JX
reot, and inasmuch as Scala had alleged that he had^ttton
t^Z r*"*'"" °^.» ^"""^ 'Pisram, Politian, TeLtoTs^h
friendly terms, would enclose a Greek epigram of his own on
wish to humble Scala, but rather to instouct hiii- said e^^
gram oont^ing a lively conceit about Venus, Cd,an3 X
^ f ». ""fd much tasted at that period, found^edp^t on
the zoological fact that the gnat, like Venus, was h^trZ
the waters Sc^a, in reply, begged to say that his ye«e°
we^ never mtended for a scholar with such delicate olfactoriL
lTr='I"°' m °* *" ""^« "'«° *° «"> perfectionTtt^
ancients, and of a taste so fastidious that stuVgeon itself must
S^ntlnd!^ "^ '"'*^ ''^,"*° ^'^'^^' ''"x^"* ''"''otC
W ^^ ,/ *f "^v '"'^•'' distraction during the summei
heat to himself and such friends as were satisfied with medi-
oon^, he, Scala, not being like some other people, who^^
publicity though the booksellers. For the ^s^he had^
enough Greek to make out the sense of the epigra^ so S
oiousty sent him, to say nothing of tasting its elj^, bu^
fte epigram was Politian's: what more need belaid? BW
by way of post«aipti he feared that his incomparable friaS';
.m.^^_f
A LBARNED BQUABBLl. ff
«wup»ri«m of the gnat to Venns, on aooonnt of iti oH^rfn #-».
deed, when the darknesfZH^rt^ ^ ^ '"'?^'' " '"■
or an owl we™ » i... T , ""° oongideration, a bat
w aa owi were a less obscure and more aoDosita nar.iiii T
Here wae a great opportunity for Politian^I - '^ . ' ""•
£dt"r^F°^^"'^«"^^^^^^
r:i,rrtr,rw?fsra^-^?^-^^^^^
Sngde^i^orZble^rtL'''''^.''''' *"* '«' "^^
««.tment on that head-wh4l3e^l Q^f "^^r T
serve aa powder to his bullet. quotation to
on,, that by a «,rt of compensation men of letters might f^
JW^
86
nOUOLk.
thwudTM hU eqaiai. In wtura, PoHtUa wm bwnd to «.
Mune Scl... writiag., nowhere wouldTi^.lSfdtt^;
«ge in which he lived, and bludied for it. SomtL indeed
h^^^^i! ,' '•"" '^^ *^'' -l'^' monmnentoofSiiW^
but he, 8odl^ could not oblige them. And Mto "ehon^
which were offensive to the envious, they had been w^U iZT
wmiee. hi. whole life ,ince he came In^n^^Zn^f
osteful to the Age; nay, it was with perfect accuracy that it
the elegant scholar, had called Soala Tbranny m^nfterfn^
much a. he was formed from the offscourin^^f monste^ te™
ewed ofHce of turning the paternal mUUtones (in J^i
It was not without reference to Tito's appointed visit th.f
tt^^per. containing this correspondenceTe'^'tjStt
Swer?^ll? Lf'i^'"*'' scholar whose accompUr
mwits were to be tested, and on nothing did Scala more desire
a dupassionate opinion from per«,ns of superior wS
than on that Greek epigram of Politi«,'s. I^r 8^3
Ss^'^f 1' "°"""^/ ^'""'^ travels,''aftet^:n:'^;rd*
of the lamented Lorenzo's eagerness in coUecting such speci-
mens of ancient art to the subject of classical toftes^d
inTeX bul a'liuir::!"" ^°"'''^' ' '"^ "' eminentlS^,^^,*
inaeed, but a little too arrogant-assuming to be a Hercul™.
who«, office It was to destroy all the literLy monstrodS^f
the age, and writing letters to his elders wiihout sS tte °
as If they were miraculous revelations that could oTha^e
one source And after all, were not hU own critioisW^often
questionable and his tastes perverse? He was fond oTs^
pungent thmgs about the men who thought they ^oH
but while he was boasting of his freedom from servile imita
twn, did he not fall into the other extremj ^g^J,
m: ^:
A LIASMIO BQUABBLI.
to believe that the "trwsmS " th "o \ '^vP'*''"'*'^
would make lieht of it T.T v' ,^^'^^' tl^emwlvea,
.p^U^ing the K i^'hlhri.';;', '^" "-t-tionauj
• visitor on aZ d^ oTTl'^^C «»•«"* of sherbet for
« a cordial-h^ a few littfet, J V""' '*''^' '^''y *•«"
turning on welllro^^iS«^ f'^^,^.*^? '"'T "' ^"'"^
not like to eo anvfurth.,r*..?v '*'""'' ''^ohhe would
ooS°4£; ''Hi.'^is't'^^r'^"-"*'"' -station to
Bured that he himwlf ».. "s""^. "«»»*• But Tito was as-
He had wonlis^^to Z^ "'t^^ating than his genui.
tion of BardoTe' Xm who^ J*^' ^^ *^<f '««'"»°«'^.-
quaintance and a worthy sI'oU 1 ^"^ ^'^*''' °^'» "«=-
hnnself alittle (a 7iSLt t M ' ■"'5'"' °^ ''''' °^«valuing
bnt he mu,t cima^^n Ik "" ^^^ »«°"t«^'« «<«d.) ;
" noMou
n» Intwrrtaw oonld h»rdlj lutre ended moty> AQnieloQdr
tot Tito, and m h« waUed out at the Porta Pint! that h«
might hngh a little at hit ease over the affair of the euln, he
felt that fortune could hardly mean to turn her Inok on him
•gain at preeent, aiiuM the had taken him by the hand in tUa
deoidad wf.
CHAPTER VIH.
A rxom iir tbk ckowd.
It U easy to northern people to rise early on midinmmer
morning, to eee the dew on the grassy edge of the dusty path-
w^, to notice the fresh shooU among the darker green of the
oak and fir in the coppice, and to look over the gate at the
•horn meadow, without recollecting that it is the Natiritv of
St. John the Baptist.
Not so to the Florentine— still less to the Florentine of the
fifteenth century: to him on that particular morning the
brightness of the eastern sun on the Amo had something spe-
cial in iti the ringing of the bells was articulate, and declared
It to be the great summer festival of Florence, the day of San
Giovanni. '
San Giovanni had been the patron taint of Florence for at
least eight hundred years— ever since the time when the Lom-
bard Queen Theodolinda had commanded her subjects to do
hun peculiar honor j nay, says old Villani, to the best of hu
knowledge, ever since the days of Constantine the Great and
Pope Sylvester, when the Florentines deposed their idol Mars
whom they were nevertheless careful not to treat with con-
tumely; for while they consecrated their beautiful and noble
temple to the honor of God and of the " Beato Messere Santo
Giovanni,'! ^^^ P^*"^^ °'^ *^»" respectfully on a high tower
new the Eiver Amo, finding in certain ancient memorials that
he had been elected as their tutelar deity under such astral
influences that if he were broken, or otherwise treated with
mdignity, the city would suffer great damage and mutation.
But m the fifteenth oantuiy that discreet regard to the feel-
vol W THl CnOWD. If
Much goo4 had come to FloniniM .in„. »i, j
ouUljr over hated Pisa. who.. »>..£ i il- • *°" *'?«•
".dutiful, whormSrw.rt«m:ihT"r ^^^ •■■k''
and Italian c^aato. Th^e of W^ \°T^ "" ^"^^
prouder and prouder^ rreJui^Eu'^^^^^ been growing
itMlf, on the Strength of Mre.r<,ol7L '^'/'''' "*-^"''»
texturea, pre-eminent a^hoWM ' ^ "'^'' *"«"* ^^^^ «»d
of themoftr,3.leiSo;T. P°«"'f.'^"'»''' •°'» "'*•
Therefore UwrfittlT^irr J" °? c'"' ^"^ ^"'"^ «°™»-
ancient ChurcL f "ti'u £l*tent^ ° San Giov.:,ni-th.t
Augustin^shouid bo a dav nf I! v °. *** "^^y' °* St.
and ahould be ushered inX °a S "uXr •*" ^l""""^'
Florentine fashion with m,ihA ■ ^. P' "" ""=' o>d
clever Cecca ngineer anrarcLttSa'ali': iH fe" "
th«j may be see„ to tk. day „. the pictures of "perugin J
fci/liifl^,..^.^ .IkJta
M
ROHOLA.
•eemed, on the eve of San Giovanni, to have brought their
piece of the heavens down into the narrow streets, and to pass
slowly through them; and, more wonderful stUl, saints of gi-'
gantio size, with attendant angels, might be seen, not seated,
but moving in a slow mysterious manner along the streets,
like a procession of colossal figures come down from the high
domes and tribunes of the churches. The clouds were made
of good woven stuff, the saints and cherubs were unglorified
mortals supported by firm bars, and those mysterious giants
were really men of very steady brain, balancing themselves
on stilts, and enlarged, like Greek tragedians, by huge masks
and stuffed shoulders; but he was a miserably unimaginative
Florentine who thought only of that— nay, somewhat impious,
for in the images of sacred things was there not some of the
virtue of sacred things themselves? And if, after that, there
came a company of merry black demons well armed with claws
and thongs, and other implements of sport, ready to perform
impromptu farces of bastinadoing and clothes-tearing, whv,
that was the demons' way of keeping a vigU, and they, too^
might have descended from the domes and the tribunes. The
Tuscan mind slipped from the devout to the burlesque as
readily as water round an angle; and the saints had already
had their turn, had gone their way, and made their due pause
before the gates of San Giovanni, to do him honor on the eve
of hia/ata. And on the morrow, the great day thus ushered
in, it was fitting that the tributary symbols paid to Florence
by all its dependent cities, districts, and villages, whether con-
quered, protected, or of immemorial possession, should be
offered at the shrine of San Giovanni in the old octagonal
church, once the cathedral, and now the baptistery, where every
Florentine had had the sign of the Cross made with the anoint-
ing chrism on his brow ; that all the city, from the white-haired
man to the stripling, and from the matron to the lisping chUd,
should be clothed in its best to do honor to the great day, and
see the great sight; and that again, when the sun was sloping
and the streeta were cool, there should be the glorious race or
Corso, when the unsaddled horses, clothed in rich trappings,
should run right across the city, from the Porta al Prato or
the northwest^ through the Mercato Veoohio, to the Porta
-..-^Tlte
A FACE IK THB CROWD. ^
gold, such as became »^y ttrttalf ^/w S '"'^ ^^S" "^
toy, there were weddinw^rth '^ begummgof that oen-
«o moh piping, mudc^^dl? w^r b*l^''.r«^ '"'^
dead, and an -rogan,, t^oS pTeTwttr f T" ^
an evU change for Florence, .^less 1 d^d T. " f"°'
prefers the bad rider as mn,! '^'.™» "">eed, the wise horse
and already the reSts foT^^^ ^"^ *™'° ""« ^ddle;
inant over VmSred d^i^T T *'""« '*" P'^''""'-
b«.is. in which corruption S ^ ^^''^f «°* «■» » broader
be that free play f^tZK ^ f ""**''' """^ *^««» ""igit
times, when FlorS ^^ ff "^J^-f-me. struggling
own soldiers, drove out^nld vTJ J •'"■^dings. reared her
ana was proud rkee„fa,>h^ ^""'' "'""^ "'""^'s poinl^
dead, Pope Cocent wL ^^. /' "'"' ^°«'- I*"-^ ''M
snoc^ion. wftTl Tn^- ^*' ""* " t^oblesome NeapoUtan
Italy by VetsVo^C S^'S"' ^iUn. «ig?t set
difficult. Still, there wm alTth«^^ ^'l" "^^'^ *° »«
Uc should keep'iu reli^l1e!^Sr """"" *** '^^ ^^^'>-
bri^t'tT^zs." rr Lte*"" T '^^^' '- -* ^-
aymbolie offerings to ^ cSln l" ^^ ""'"^^ ""'* *^«
a^embied at the^ s.:ruXToS^rplr dX" s"^" -^
-that famous piazza, where st™^ til f ^ Signona
massive turreted Palaclof th^ T' ""? ^*^^ '""'' the
Veochio, andthesMci^w? u'"^'''' '^^ the Palazzo
of augind'suLrro^s^^'^ Xl^rrr*'^'^^^
tent, and under it the bells stnni ,! -^ ? ""* '*'^* ""«
«piHt With «m. -oS^r^fSttS:;- -;
93
ROHOLA.
i
hare taken hU light; vindows and terraced loofs were aliv*
with human facee; sombre atone houses were bright with
hanging draperies; the boldly soaring palace tower, the yet
older square tower of the Bargello, and the spire of the neigh-
boring Badia, seemed to keep watch above; and below, on the
broad polygonal flags of the piazza, was the glorious show of
banners, and horses with rich trappings, and gigantic eeri, or
tapers, that were fitly called towers — strangely aggrandized
descendants of those torches by whose faint light the Church
worshipped in the Catacombs. Betimes in the morning all
processions had need to move under the midsummer sky of
Florence, where the i <r of the narrow streets must every
now and then be exoha.^jjdd for the glare of wide spaces; and
the sun would be high up in the heavens before the long pomp
had ended its pilgrimage in the Piazza di San Giovanni.
But here^ where the procession was to pause, the magnifi-
cent city, with its ingenious Ceooa, had provided another tent
than the sky; for the whole of the Piazza del Duomo, from
the octagonal baptistery in the centre to the facade of the
cathedral and the walls of the houses on the other sides of the
quadrangle, was covered, at the height of forty feet or more,
with blue drapery, adorned with well-stitched yellow lilies
and the familiar coats of arms, while sheaves of many-colored
banners drooped at fit angles under this superincumbent blue
— a gorgeous rainbow-lit shelter to the waiting spectators who
leaned from the windows, and made a narrow border on the
pavement, and wished for the coming of the show.
One of these spectators was Tito Melema. Bright, in the
midst of brightness, he sat at the window of the room above
Kello's shop, his right elbow resting on the red drapery hang-
ing from the window-sill, and his head supported in a back-
ward position by the right hand, which pressed the curls
against his ear. His face wore that bland liveliness, as far
removed from excitability as from heaviness or gloom, which
marks the companion popular alike amongst men and women —
the companion who is never obtrusive or noisy from imeasy
vanity or excessive animal spirits, and whose brow is never
contracted by resentment or indignation. He showed no other
change from the two mouths and more that had passed since
f# «
wmmmMm.Wi:^^ m ^ j,f .
A PACK m THE CROWD. 93
that added wdiance of good fortune which is like the juat per-
oepbble perfecting of a flower after it haa drunk a monX,
•unbeams Cloee behind him, ensconced in the naJST^fle
rf^r !"» "'^3"^'l.tJ>«»'i«dow.frame, atood the slim figure
ReteMhe erudite corrector of proof-sheets, not Domenioo the
W^^' "!7" ^^^^« alternately down on the scene be-
m^').Tf "P''*^"?.*^" '""i«'l J^o' "f ga^w and talkers im-
mediately around hun, some of whom had come in after wit-
hSTI- .«""^?n~ment of the procession in the Piazza
deUa Sipiona. Piero di Cosimo was raising a laugh among
them by his grimaces and anathemas at the noise of the bells!
.^ll \° ^"^ "^ «"-«t»ffi"8 '^as a sufficient barrioadT
smce the more he stuffed his ears the more he felt the vibrv
tion of his skull; and declaring that he would bury himself in
the most solitary spot of the Valdarno on a /J^ if he w^
^LZT""^ " "-P"^**"' *° "« ^ ^"' f°' the secret, rf
oolor that were sometimes to be caught from the floating of
bwners and the chance grouping of the multitude.
« J/ ™^.^ JuBt turn^i his laughing face away from the whim-
^.^ ^^^}- ^T ** ^^ """^ ^^ 80iBg on among
tte checkered bwder of spectators, when at L a^gle of thf
marble Stops in front of the Duomo, nearly opposite NeUo's
shop, he saw a man's face upturned toward him, and fiiine
on him a gaze that seemed to have more meaning in it than
the ordinary passing observation of a stranger. It waa a face
with tonsured head, that rose above the black mantle and white
hinio of a Dominium friar_a very common sight in Florence;
Sat the glance had something peculiar in it for Tito There
waa a famt suggestion in it, certainly not of an unpleasant
kind Yet what pleasant association had he ever had with
monks? None. The glance and the suggestion hardly took
longer than a flash of lightning. '
"Nello!" said Tito, hastily, but immediately added in a
f^°!f „ ^-P^?*"""*' "■^' ^« *"» *"™«d ~™d. It was
that tall, ttin fnar who is going up the steps. I wanted you
to teU me if you knew aught of him? "
"One of the Frati Predicatori, •' said NeUck oaieleaalyj
*• ROMOLA.
"yon don't expect me to know the private Uatoiy of the
orows."
"I seem to remember something about his face," said Tito.
" It is an nnoommon face. "
"What? you thought it might be our Fra Girolamo? Too
tall; and he never shows himself in that chance way."
" Besides, that loud-barking ' hound o* ne Lord ' ' is not in
Florence just now," said Francesco Cei, the popular poet;
"he has taken Piero de' Medici's hint, to carry his railing
prophecies on a journey for a while."
" The Prate neither rails nor prophesies against any man,"
add a middle-aged personage seated at the other comer of the
window ; " he only prophesies against vice. K you think that
an attack on your poems, Francesco, it is not the Frate's
fault."
"Ah, he's gone into the Duomo now," said Tito, who had
watched the figure eagerly. "No, I was not under that mis-
take, Nello. Your Fra Girolamo has a high nose and a large
nnder lip. I saw him once — he is not handsome; but this
man . , ,"
" Truce to your descriptions ! " said Cennini. " Hark I see I
Here come the horsemen and the banners. That standard,"
he continued, laying his hand familiarly on Tito's shoulder,
"that carried on the horse with white trappings — that with
the red eagle holding the green dragon between his talons, and
the red lily over the eagle— is the Gonfalon of the Guelf
party, and those cavaliers close round it are the chief officers
of the Guelf party. That is one of our proudest banners,
grumble as we may ; it means the triumph of the Guelf s, which
means the triumph of Florentine will, which means triumph
of the popolani."
"Nay, go on, Cennini," said the middle-aged man, seated at
the window, " which means triumph of the fat popolani over
the lean, which again means triumph of the fattest popolano
over those who are less fat."
"Cronaoa, you are becoming sententious," said the printer;
' A play on the name of the Dominicans (Domini Ccma) whtoh waa
accepted by themmlvea, and which is pictorlally repnaented in a fieNO
fainted ior them by Bimone Memmi.
A PAOB IN THE CROWD.
95
rf^ Ourolamo's preaching wUl spoU you, and make you take
i u *{ *^\"°"8 handle. Trust me, your oomioes wiU lose
half their beauty if you begin to mingle bitterness with them:
that 18 the maniera Tedesca which you used to declaim against
when you came from Borne. The nezt palace you build we
uJ^" ^°"* *^"'8 *° P"* ^^^ ^a*«'» doctrine into stone "
1„. Ji*! "Iv' ^^^^^^-^ °* cavaliers," said Tito, who had
learned by this time the best way to please Plorentmes: "but
are aiere not strangers among them? I see foreign costumes."
Assuredly," said Cennini; "you see there the Orators from
France, Milan, and Venice, and behind them are English and
German nobles; for it is customary that all foreign visitors of
disbnction pay tteir tribute to San Giovanni in the train of
that gonf^on. For my part, I think our Florentine cavaliers
sit their horses as well as any of those out-and-thrust north-
erners, whose wits lie ia their heels and saddles: and for
yon Veneban I f ancy he would feel himself more at ease on
the back of a dolphin. We ought to know something of horse-
m^iship, for we excel all Italy in the sports of the Gioetra,
and the money we spend on them. But you will see a finm
show of our chief men by and by, Melema; my brother him-
self will be among the officers of the Zeoca."
"The banners are the better sight," said Piero di Cosimoi
forgetting the noise ia his deUght at the winding stream of
color as the tributary standards adv-^nced round the piazza.
jme Florentine men are so-so; the. make but a sorry show
at this distance with their patch of sa^iow flesh-tint above the
blMk ^rments ; but those banners with their velvet, and satin.
and miniver, and brocade, and their endless pky of delicat^
light and 8hadowI_ra/ your human talk and doings area
« V^^'- ^^ passionate life is in form and color."
Ay, Piero, if Satanasso could paint, thou wouldst sell thy
^H-^ f?- "^ '"'"'*"•" ^"'^ ^«'^°- "B"* tl'^e is little
likelihood of It, seemg the blessed angels themselves are such
poor hands at chiaroscuro, if one may judge from their capo-
a opera, the Madonna Nunziata."
" a"^ «" *^ *^* '^°*''* °* ^"* ""i Arezzo," said Cennini.
Ay, Messer Pisano, it is no use for you to look sullen; voi,
may as weU carry your banner to our San Giovanm with a
M
ROHOLA.
good grace. 'Pisans false, Florentines blind'— the awyaid
half of that proverb will hold no longer. There oome the
ensigns of our subject towns and signories, Melema: they will ~
aU be suspended in San Giovanni until this day next year
when they will give place to new ones." '
" They are a fair sight," said Tito; " and San Giovanni will
surely be as well satisfied with that produce of Italian looms
as Minerva with her peplos, especially as he contents himself
with so httle drapery. But my eyes are less delighted with
those whirling towers, which would soon make me fall from
the window in sympathetic vertigo."
The " towers " of which Tito spoke were a part of tiie pro-
cession esteemed very glorious by the Florentine populace,
and being perhaps chiefly a kind of hyperbole for the aU-effi-
oacious wax taper, were also called eeri. But inasmuch as
hyperbole is impracticable in a real and literal fashion, these
gigantic ceri, some of them so large as to be of necessity ear-
ned on wheels, were not soUd but hollow, and had their sur-
face made not solely of wax, but of wood and pasteboard,
gilded, carved, and painted, as real sacred tapers often are,
with successive circles of figures— warriors on horseback,
foot-soldierg with lance and shield, dancing maidens, animals,
trees and fruits, and in fine, says the old chronicler, "aU
things that could delight the eye and the heart " ; the hollow-
ness having tiie further advantage that men could stand inside
these hyperboUc tapers and whirl them continuaUy, so as to
produce a phantasmagoric effect, which, considering the towen
were numerous, must have been calculated to produee dizziness
on a truly magnificent scale.
"PettUenzal" said Piero di Cosimo, moving from the win-
dow, "those whirling circles one above the other are worse
than the jangling of aU the bells. Let me know when the last
taper has passed. "
" Nay, you will surely like to be called when the contadini
come carrying their torches, » said NeUo ; " yon would not miss
the country folk of tiie Mugello and tiie Casentino, of whom
your favorite Lionardo would make a hundred srotesque
sketches."
" 2f o, " said Piero^ resolutely, " I wiU see nothing till the car
^V%'W^
A FACE m THE CROWD.
•7
r*!*! ^ "T**- ^ """^ ■««" ''1»'^« '""Ugh holdinK taoers
«lant, both w.th and without oowls, to last me forty iT"
™.f vT r°""' """"' Pi^o-the oar of the Zecca," oaUed
out NeUo after an interval during which towers Z tepTIn
-nS*.",^'^'' 1 "^-.'""^ "««'■' ""^8 their .low Csit
^wi^w, exclaimed Francesco Cei, "that is a we 1
tajjned San Giovanni! some sturdy EomignoFe begg^-m^
ru warrant. Our Signoria plays the host to all Vhf^ewUh
and lets them fatten on us like St. Anthony's swme."
.i»ht^^ • *y\f^. °' Mint, which had just roUed into
a splendid car, and drawn by two mouse-colored oxen wh<»a
mild heads looked out from rich trappings be^g the arms
»t^; T- .^"^ "^^ '*'**" ^"^^ of aie centu^^^ geS
rather ashamed of the towers with their circJar or sS
ITJ^f "^^ ^? •^"'■Khted the eyes and the h^ oTt^
other hal^ so that they had become a contemptuous proverb!
^danyiU-painted figure looking, as will sometime. hapS
1 wir„»n^'' ^'^ ages of art, as if it had been boned tea
pie, was called a fantoecio da cero, a tower-puppet- conse-
quently improved taste, with Cecca to help it, had deVis^for
^magnificent Zeoca a triumphal car like a%ytmir^lS-
ewuy. Bound the base were living figures of saints an.1
at the height of thirly feet, well bound to an iron rod^d
holdmg an iron cross also firmly infixed, stood a liviuKrer^
sentative of St. John the Baptist, with LnnZl CVa™ t
fastened on his head-as the Precursor was wont to appear in
tte cloisters and churches, not having yet revealed hiS^lf Z
punters as the brown and sturdy boy who made one oTthe
S mol^l ^- , Z !?"" °°'^** *^" ^-^^ °* «"» Patron saint
b. more fitly placed than on the symbol of the Zecca? Was
^t a city had won ite independenoe? and by the blessing of
San Giovanni this "beautiful sheepfold" of his hadshl^
iM'
98
ROXOIJL
that token earliaat amopg the Italian oitiee. Nerertheleis,
the annual function of lepreeenting the patron saint was not
among the high prizes of public life; it was paid for with
something like ten shillings, a cake weighing fourteen pounds,
two bottles of wine, and a handsome supply of light eatables;
the money being furnished by the magnificent '' cca, and the
payment in kind being by peculiar "privilege " resented in a
basket suspended on a pole from an upper window of a private
house, whereupon the eidolon of the austere saint at once in-
vigorated himself with a reasonable share of the sweets and
wine, threw the remnants to the crowd, and embraced the
mighty cake securely with his right arm through the remainder
of his passage. This was the attitude in which the mimic
San Giovanni presented himself as the tall car jerked and
vibrated on its slow way round the piazza to the northern gate
of the Baptistery,
" There go the Masters of the Zeoca, and there is my brother
— you see him, Melema? " cried Gennini, with an agreeable
stirring of pride at showing a stranger what was too familiar
to be remarkable to fellow-citizens. " Behind come the mem-
bers of the Corporation of Calimara,' the dealers in foreign
cloth, to which we have given our Florentine finish; men of
ripe years, you see, who were matriculated before you were
bom; and then comes the famous Art of Money-changers."
" Many of them matriculated also to the noble art of usury
before you were bom," interrupted Francesco Cei, "as you
may discern by a certain fitful glare of the eye and sharp curve
of the nose which manifest their descent from the ancient
Hary^i IS, whose portraits yon saw supporting the arms of the
Zecca. Shaking oft old prejudices now, such a procession as
that of some four hundred passably ugly men carrying their
tapers in open daylight, Diogenes-fashion, as if they were
looking for a lost quattrino, would make a merry spectacle for
the Feast of Fools."
" Blaspheme not against the usages of our city," said Pietro
Cennini, much offended. " There are new wits who think they
see things more truly because they stand on their heads to
'"Arte dl Calimara," "arte" being, la this dw of it, eqnlTalsnt to
ooipontion.
A FACE I» THE CROWD. gg
look at them, like tmnbleri and mountebank., initead of keeo-
mgtheatttude of rational men. DouS it m^L I.^,
d^erenoe to Maestro Vaiano'. monkey, whether they we ou"
T h7°"» ~?"^i.ty 'ill allow some quarter to playful fancy,
jnoient^ whose example you scholar, are bound to revere
Me«er Pxetro? Life wa. never anything but a per^t^ .^
saw between gravity and jest." r r" "~ -.w-
Zlf'L / f*°°»'' """ "^8'^' """<» "">* i8 notwhen'Sle
great bond of our Republic is expressing itself in ancient sym-
bols without which the vulgar would be conscious of noting
beyond their own petty wants of back and stomach, and never
r« K^ " ^"^ "' community in religion and law. There
ha. been no great people without processions, and the man who
thinks himself too wise to be moved by thei to anythi^ bu?
contempt is like the puddle that wa. proud of standing alona
while the nver rushed by."
Hlf^ T '^'t'^y^^e after this indignant burst of Cenniui'.
till he himself spoke again. ^^
8t|«e of the .how, Melema. That is our Qonfaloniere in the
middle, in the starred manUe, with the sword carried before
lum. Twenty years ago we used to see our foreign Podest4.
who was our judge in civU causes, walking on hi. right hand^
tat our Eepubho ha. been over-doctored by olev« ilf«iW
That 1. the Proposto ■ of the Priori on the left , then come ^e
other seven Prion; then aU the other magistracies and offlciahi
,?mv ^P" "*• ^°" ^ y°"' patron the Segretario? "
There i. Me.ser Bernardo del Nero also," said Tito- "hi.
visage 18 a fine and venerable one, though it ha. worn nJther a
petrify mg look toward me."
J^^i'\fi ^f^°' "h^ '" ^^^ ^"^^ ^^* guards the rem-
nant of old Bardo's gold, which, I fancy, is chiefly that virgin
gold that faUs about the fair Romola's head and should^..
eh, my Apollmo? " he added, patting Tito's head.
* Spoknmnaa oi' Muderstor.
100
ROMOI.A.
.i^^ ««• youthful gTM. of blurting, but he h«l ,1«, th.
He wu Mved from the need for further speech bv th. «^
• blast, and a whistling well befitting a city famous for^
inS^iSi^rmtlo^SfirdS': SnVsL^
greeting-Uie sweet round blue-eyed face under a whiteW
-immediately lost in the narrow border of h^ wTe™ i^
W K r'"",*'^"'^ ""P"* °' ">»°<i oontadinrchelks L r
^dlir^n^?"".'"^"' '^'"^^^of anoW^SdlS!
twere^^r'^lrreSed"!: t:.^Z Z^St^^^ "^
STn-^eTirh^i— S^^
£rrrw-\x^^--7H5°^
eh, Sl'^r;^'- ^ «-* y- -« ""^ .ignalsV
£;or^^rf!^s^.i.T?L7s:;?-ste
have gone in search of adventures together in the crowd wd
had some pleasant fooling in honor of San GiovZi ^Tnt
PeS/^t^.r"""'^-*"— Idon^eanS
profe.«» a mantle-tA« u roomy enough to hide a few stol«^
mmmm^^m
A "AM'8 RANSOM. m
P« I«l Mn tetto • geotll* a cortMe. • "
founded h»bWin« wonM^ i, u ^ °"°"°° '''»' ""»•' *"■
yourself." ""'PP" y*'" "• alw«y» profewing
that I talk any follyTtout her " ^ ^''" °" '»"' ^
CHAPTER IX
■* « n's BANSOK.
Tito was soon down among the crowd and nn*»ti. ^ j
i^
m
ROXOLA.
If
hang about fhe ainTfike Sj J "fti t'^Kj!^'' ""»»«>""»•
-beat to .w„p the« . Ari'SLrl^iteT'*"'^'^
occupation for hi. thoughU. Bv T« t,'^. k ^ P'eManter
of th, Corao degli Adimarf into a aide atrStT '""""» ""'
only that the aun waa high Md th»f fK * "" '=""'»
iim longer than he had itn^^ f ^ P""*"*"" had kept
the Via^e' Bard^W^r ISrhJ^n^iJ "^^ '""'"?'
awaited. He felt tJiA .»»„ """'"'g. ne Knew, was anxiously
icy b^unin? d ffi^SyT^e bSd";'"''r^'r^'"''= *^-
semi-transMrent lamn IhJ^ '"°" ^'^^ ""> "K^t in a
face and nKrsi^.rin'irt "" .^'"''^''*
only gave it the exquisite cW of l™"',^"""''*'*^' '"»*
heightened stm more by what^^ t? J ""'""eness,
frankness of her look^Iit^TrhT"^^^ ^^'^^
rades in the world duri^T^aT .v *^ "'" **« ^* oom-
the blind mal^ch^ fh!^' ''°"" ^'^ P*"**^ '"Kcther round
and he was Wor£ji.er irt^etht''^ fr"^^* *" T'*"^
jeotion to Bomola wfth thT.imJf,! "?v" '^"^^'^y ^ ""b"
first time, withoutTflnLlTf^T^ ./"".'^ l"" *«" for the
the presence of noble woZhl^ ^^5' '^'^ '°^8 ""'« i"
like the worshipDaid o^nM r^' "^^'"^ " P"'"'?'' a<»"ething
was not al^iS butwtse lif* rdt""""''-^'^'^''"' '^°
A JCAW8 RANSOlf. jog
Or.ec,, M h.ZS„LTo^ Vwiltl''""- m"^' ^^^ «"
Wwk-,yed peMant girl, who had .«t^ ^ "" '°'' * ""'^
wall, crept gradually nU«, .n^ "''^ '"' water-pot on the
riiylyaakcdhimtokiwTr ^l'"''*"\'° '"'"' *"<» •» l"t
...^ faahion?^ Bat BoTolSov, w;'„,d ne"*"" " ""' "-
" ' ^ »o. M ,; ,ver come at .llV ? J""'"."*''*' "^me in that
rm uM,p... „a^b!^^"'°'''.t, H« *M in hia fresh
without a vision of Lh a ft.iSi'*':.*"^" '''°"«'" was not
interview with BSoamSZfhr- ^"""ta-'Piciou.
ment of a growlT^av™ o^ tK ^T"^ ""» <=°'^enoe-
to an issue whilh Luid J™^ secretary's part, and had led
on Florence aa he pS t^^lT^tK""^ ^•'° •^««'<J«
it had held no other ma 'etp^!?. "»'""'«'' ^"^^». even if
Mwell as Utin at R^«nl ^"'l'"^ '''" P«>fes8or of Greek
UinedthereJtltLJhtteZlf'f '^'"/i*^ "''"" '«''''« '"»*■"
but for a long tiC DemetX CaW^^'l'* ^^ ""'<^'«'itoPi8ai
nent and respectTble^onrth* « "^ -°'" °* '^' °""' •""''
aOreekchair^ BimuitTZfly :* hXe too.''"^ '"' ^'^° ''*''*
Calcondi»a was now go^to Mi^!„ .^rj''*'^°"''"''°"'^>''''-
Poi»e or rival to PoS^.nh ' '^"l"'"'™ '^s no counter-
Wends who wild h^°riL'Z':Tf, '"^ '•■" "y *•'''
humiUty. Soala was for L™ i!f^ .. '""'* Propriety and
<^, Zd he fo^ITeveaWhoIr,? '""^ °"'^ '""""^ "^ '""'
thirsty admirers of medio^,;^ thl! *^ "Tl '"" '^°°8 *''°'«
with his verse, in h^ w::^*terrv?t' "> *" 'f "'"^^^
wcamer, were yet nuite wiUuig to join
r .:
IM
ROHOLA.
hm ta domg that moral aarrioe to PoUtian. It was flnally
agreed that Tito should be supported in a Greek chair, as D^
metno Caloondila had been by Lorenzo himself, who, being at
the same time the afteotionate patron of PoUtian, had abown
by precedent that there was nothing invidious in such a meas-
nre, but only a zeal for true learning and for the instruction
of the Florentine youth.
Tito was thus sailing under the fairest breeze, and besides
oonvincing fair judges that his talents squared with his good
fortune, he wore that fortune so easily and unpretentiously
that no one had yet been offended by it. He was not unlikely
to get into the best Florentine society : society where there was
much more plate than the circle of enamelled silver in the eeajm
of the brass dishes, and where it was not forbidden by the Si-
gnoiy to wear the richest brocade. For where could a handsome
young scholar not be welcome when he could touch the lute
and troll a gay song? That bright face, that easy smile, that
hquid voice, seemed to give life a holiday aspect; just as a
strain of gay music and the hoisting of colors make the work-
worn and the sad rather ashamed of showing themselves.
Here was a professor likely to render the Greek classics ami-
able to the sons of great houses.
And that was not the whole of Tito's good fortune; for he
had sold aU his jewels, except the ring he did not choose to
part with, and he was master of full five hundred gold florins.
Yet the moment when he first had this sum in his posses-
sion was the crisis of the first serious struggle his facile, good-
humored nature had known. An importiunate thought, of
which he had till now refused to see more than tl a shadow as
It dogged his foototeps, at last rushed upon him and grasped
him: he was obliged to pause and decide whether he would
surrender and obey, or whether he would give the refusal that
must carry irrevocable consequences. It was in the room
above Nello's shop, which Tito had now hired as a lodging
that the elder Cennini handed him the last quota of the sum
on behalf of Bernardo EuoeUai, the purchaser of the two most
valuable gems.
" Eeeo, tfiovanemio/" said the respectable printer and gold-
smith, "you have now a pretty little fortune; and if you will
A lUK-B BANSOM. jqS
take my advice, yoa wiU let me pUwe ronr fln.^ i
quMter, where they may ineL^J .l?^"'.*" » "^^
"lipping through your S««7^t multiply, instead of
wUch ^e rife lunonTJ^r .' ^^''*"' "^"^ "'l'" 'oUies
too much tte 3n of ^h, ""' ^''"*?- ^"^ " "«» ^^
Pietro CrinZ ^y fh,-„w1?^ "? ^especially when, like our
and broidTrS SSr wtr^'^'r'!'' "^^ *" >« '"^''''d
fain to beg with th^X itaT tuth " *'^'"''' '^«'
and you are free to make a wise oUrf" ^°" ^« """"'y'
see on which side the balLce d^n. w %f^ ""'"''«= ^ ''"^^
man a member o? an Art Wl haL .^' ^'r"*^'" ^d no
matriculated: and notLi! . f "'^ '"^ ^l'"' a^-J been
he has been weU tapted ''^'^^'^'''^^ ^ ">e art of life till
your florins out to u^^^f you cXt\"'' 'T "^'^ *» P"*
scholar may marry. ,md shoulH. "7 *°-"«'"°''- A
for the «.<4e„^:."'iS,'^ '"'"" '»"'«'«'i°8 i» ^adiness
wi^'S'SieS^'ttrL'?''' '^J'*" *"-<» "---I
table where the Ss lay He Zr** ^T" ^" "^"^ °" «•«
stood with his thumbs in his be?t^^v°° f"' "'°^<«°enti but
fixed state whichr^m^nL iV^ *.'^°J°' '° *^'* *'""'■
ness on some inw^l^ """^^^^o- °f «»»scioua-
" A man's ransom f " who was if <-;,.<. v j . •. „
florim, was more than a rn^rr™?'"!^,""* ^^^ ^^^
midday sun, on some hot cTast ZZ[y a IT' ""'*''' ^^
stricken in years— a m«nn„f\v.r?^' * ™"' somewhat
the most J«s"^ h^^a .^^°t t'*^ "'°"«^*'' "«* ^^
cued a UtSe boy fromT^ „fT ° '^1« y*"" '*' '"'d "«■
^reared ^S^^lV^'it^^^'^'^tthr ^
feted because he :r„rSStSS"*rK'f° """^ ''^■
to himself, "Tito will find me. he CbL to o» J'" "^^^
scripts and gems to Venice- h« win k."P^°" ■"»"»-
will never rlt till he find"'me o't »?" H S' '"'""^' ""'
could he, Tito, see the r>Jl ^tk , "^* """ "^tain,
say, " I wil sCttw ^ ^ **""' 'y^°8 ^^°"' h™, and
say will stay at Florence, where I am fanned by soft aira
n^ tZ^Z^"^ •»'-««— to the bride th. da, ,,..«...«,
^^^^^.^wm-^ ^w^^i^-
106
ROHOUL
of promiaed lore and piMperity; I will not risk myaelf for his
sake " ? Ko, surely not, if it were eertain. But nothing could
be farther from certainty. The galley had been taken by a
Turkish vessel on its way to Delos : that was known by the
report of the companion galley, which had escaped. B«t there
had been resistance, and probable bloodshed; a man had be>m
seen falling overboard : who were the survivors, and what had
befallen them amongst all the multitude of possibilities? Had
not he, Tito, suffered i Mpwreok and narrowly escaped drown-
ing? He had good cause for feeling the omnipresence of cas-
ualties that threatened all projects with futility. The rumor
that they were pirates who had a settlement in Delos was not
to be depended on, or might be nothing to the purpose. Whaij
probably enough, would be the result if he were to quit
Florence and go to Venice; get authoritative letters — yes, he
knew that might be done — and set out lor the Archipelago?
Why, that he should be himself seized, and spend ail his flor-
ins on preliminaries, and be again a destitute wanderer — with
30 more gems to sell.
Tito had a clearer vision of that result than of the possible
moment when he might Snd his father again, and carry him
deliverance. It would surely be an unfairness that he, in his
full ripe youth, to whom life had hitherto had some of the
stint and subjection of a school, should turn his back on prom-
ised love and distinction, and perhaps never be visited by that
promise again. "And yet," he said to himself, "if I were
certain that Baldassarre Calvo was alive, and that I could free
him, by whatever exertions or perils, I would go now — now I
have the money : it was useless to debate the matter before.
I would go now to Bardo and Bartolommeo Scala, and tell
them the whole truth." Tito did not say to himself so dis-
tinctly that if those two men had known the whole truth he
was aware there would have been no alternative for him but to
go in search of his benefactor, who, if alive, was the rightful
owner of the gems, and whom he had always equivocally spo-
ken of as " lost " ; he did not say to himself —what he was not
ignorant of — that Greeks of distinction had made sacrifices,
taken voyages again and again, and sought help from crowned
and mitred beads for the sake of freeing relatives from slavery
A MAN'S RANSOM jq^.
ifipulses had been ™oe^ Ct ^7°'' ^1. *""* *"* *^°«
sidered this part of hi^TondueTfnn '' J"* '"^ °«^<« ""n-
«oi<manessofhU motive, for^Vr* T"«^ '■" ''"'^ *!»« oon-
"«e of telling the w W It ».. r"^.""?*- ^''^t '=>» ^e
tia mind aeveral (^2'3incehril^n'''t^*^°"«''*^'''* ''""'"d
«U. it waa a great «h7to be ' ^1^^'-" ""'^ '^*«'
would have liked tn i,^„ i ? Baldassarre, and he
board. B^t „^t,LuSs:rf;i7'",*!'f '''''^ '•^'>- ove''
that is irksome. S»lr« i * ""'^''^''ly out of a relation
8er as he got oldert^^™ "f *°> "^"^ ^="1 8°t stran-
mi^dtosefwhetheritlZdTht ^ "™''°"^8 '^''"'^
tationsi and age-theTeTa tllw r\"*«8''*'«'^«P«<=-
man beyond s^who^Lten.^.?^ beavy-browed, bVd
of ideas have long t^eTtWwt. T^"""^ ^ *be grasp
Ktion, may be l^k^ at flt^^ ' °^- ""'°°*°°y '^^ ™Pe-
being fouud attractive sthrmLT'';'."*" '''"'°"'
acquaintances, unless he h^d tL t^, '""**'^ «™°"8 new
ar ,^ youLxrbeiSy'at hTtr^ Th^ r-^
S^r::i?;,-X"£Khs^^^^^^^
TuiS,iE^i=-?.^Ser--^-
was only seven year, oU B jL^ "membered life, when he
blows, had takent^^ to'at^^w ^^ ^T"^ ^'"> *«»»
adise, where there waTsteTfL^ * T""*^ "''^ "P'^^d P-"-
bad on Baldassaire'T^I lf?l and soothing caresses, all
tbey had parted,^to had b^.^t/'^''" "''" """« till the hour
fatherly cares. *'"^'"*« ""^ "«°tre of Baldassarre's
-ty^a^^i.^r^^tlgh^iabK qjUok of apprehension,
splendid grace, who seempH . 1 ^.'~^' " y°"tb of even
108
ROHOI^
baUmoed that it could know no uneasy dasiies, no nnieat— •
radiant preseaoe for a lonely man to have won for himielf.
If he were silent when his father expected some response, still
he did not look moody; if he declined some labor— why, he
flung himself down with such a charming, half-smiling, half-
pleading air that the pleasure of looking at him made amanda
to one who had watched his growth with a sense of claim and
possession: the curves of Tito's mouth had ineffable good
humor in them. And then, the quick talent to which every-
thing came readily, from philosophical systems to the rhymes
of a street ballad caught up at a hearing I Would any one
have said that Tito had not made a rich return to his benefac-
tor, or that his gratitude and afFeotion would fail on any great
demand?
He did not admit that his gratitude had failed; but it mai
not certain that Baldassarre was in slavery, not certain that he
was living.
" Do I not owe something to myself? " said Tito, inwardly,
with a slight movement of his shoulders, the first he had made
since he had turned to look down at the florins. " Before I
quit everything, and incur ^gain all the risks of which I am
even now weary, I must at least have a reasonable hope. Am
I to spend my life in a wandering search? / hdieee he it dead.
Cennini was right about my florins : I will place them in his
hands to-morrow."
When, the next morning, Tito put this determination into
act he had chosen his color in the game, and had given an in-
evitable bent to his wishes. He had made it impossible that
he should not from henceforth desire it to be the truth that
his father was dead ; impoMiUe that he should not be tempted
to baseness rather than that the precise facts of his conduct
should not remain forever concealed.
Under evary guilty secret there is hidden a brood of guilty
wishes, whose unwholesome infecting life is cherished by the
darkness. The contaminating effect of deeds often lies less
in the commission than in the consequent adjustment of our
desires — the enlistment of our self-interest on the side of
falsity ; as, on the other hand, the purifying influence of pub-
lic confession springs from the fact that by it the hope in lie«
DNDKH THB PLANB-TRBB. 109
SSZiir*'"'"' •"' ''• -""^ "--™ thenoble^ttitude
concentrated themadytT ZTt^« "^.^ ""^rrupted had now
united and nwde a oWef J^ w.^ "* selfishneas had
meet with tlTl^e S^i~ mt^7 T^ never again
vgae indeciaion the q^ti^whethl :fh ?^*" "^ '"'' ^
power, he would not retumJ^L "'."'* '^^^ ^ ^
^had now -deTdeS^TelTr^ei^ornr'; i'*^'
that course; hehadavo».j*„i,- v. " ^°' °°* taking
We been ^h^e^ rrott^'f "^ "^^r '''''"« '»""
made him ashamtd t Z !L^„n^ '^^ '^Wch would have
But the inward eham^ rt« ^""8«nt Presence of his father.
the great heaS ofTa^k^d " aL fo?!" "'"^'•.'"'' "'^'''^
« reflex which will P»i«f ., "^ , ^"^ individual man,
impulses ttat ne^iriaw h„T "^X'^^^ °^ '^' »ympatheti
pity as inevitobrM fh« K . ^\*° *^« '^«*<^ «* fidelity and
f attaokTS "e^ilS en::?'l\SS.t5r« ^^^
showing its blushes in Tito's det«™i„.H^ 1^ '**'"* ''»»
that hi. father was d««,'tirfira::r:«lX"
CHAPTER X.
won, THK PLAKXI'Bn.
tha^'Tt'ht^^crd ss IT •^■^' *- -«"«■ -^
that as he set ^tti" SiTv a de^S .""'.'' ""^^ "^^
outward signs of a mind at eLl How^JIm it ^t^ "^ • '^^
He never jarred with what ^H ; ^°*."'°"''» " be otherwise?
hisnature was toTiovZ. * ^*"*""*^y *""■«» Wm, and
turned out of the hot «„11 f T °* " •'™'^- As he
Btreet, took off^e bLk 0,0^.!:^.^ "'""''' "' " °-™-
-» was no brrsSt^r^-crs^-i
r
110
IH
ROMOLA.
th«e any gtanp of ctuidor: it was simply a finely formed,
square, smooth young brow. And the slow absent glance be
cast around at the upper windows of the houses had neither
more dissimulation in it, nor more ingenuousness, than belongs
to a youthful well-opened eyelid with its unwearied breadth of
gaze; to perfectly pellucid lenses; to the undimmed dark of a
rich brown iris; and to a pure eerulean-tinted angle of white-
ness streaked with the deUoate shadows of long eyelashes
Was It that Tito's face attracted or repelled according to the
mental attitude of the obserrer? Was it a cipher with more
than one key? The strong, unmistakable expression in his
whole air and person was a negative one, and it was perfectly
veracious; it declared the absence of any uneasy claim, anv
restless vanity, and it made the admiration that followed hii
as he passed among the troop of holiday-makers a thoroughly
wiUmg tribute. ^ '
For by this time the stir of the Festa was felt even in the
narrowest side streets ; the throng which had a.\ one time been
concentrated in the lines through which the procession had to
pass was now streaming out in aU directions in purauit of a
new object. Such intervals of a Festa are precisely the mo-
ments when the vaguely active animal spirits of a crowd are
likely to be the most petulant and most ready to sacrifice a
stray individual to the greater happiness of the greater num-
ber. As Tito entered the neighborhood of San Martino, he
found the throng rather denser; and near the hostelry of the
Bertwre, or Baboons, there was evidenUy some object which
was arresting the passengers and forming them into a knot
It needed nothing of great interest to draw aside passengers
unfreighted with a purpose, and Tito was preparing to turn
aside into an adjoining street, when, amidst the loud laughter
his ear discerned a distressed chUdish voice crying, "Loose
me: Holy Virgin, help me! " which at once determined him
to push his way into the knot of gazers. He had just had
tune to perceive that the distressed voice came from a young
contadina, whose white hood had faUen off in the stru^le to
get her hands free from the grasp of a man in the party-colored
dress of a cerretano, or conjurer, who was making laughing
attempU to soothe and o^ole her, evidanUy carrying with
UNDKR THB PLANE-TRBB. HI
him the amnwKl sympathy of the ipeotaton. Th««.hv.,«
withTk. -Tt^- . "" e<l>"^al<>ntB, seemed to be anmim
right have you to hold her against her wUl?" ^^
apologetic, half-protesting mamier ^'"'
lapful of confetti as a reward But what ^n^T"^ ^l' *
doubtless better confetH at hand, and sh^Ws it^*"" ""
l^Zr^fjT '^°°« "" bystander, accompanied these
sLnJ r"". ''*' ''"''' "^"^ P'-'-'ed h" hand wit"S^iT
■^#*
lis
ROHOIX
uation, hMtened to get clear of obeerr.™ who, h.viii» been
sac:'bT£r^ •""^""-'^ -"• '- ^ -^^
" See, see, litUe onel here is your hood," said the ooniurer
ttrowmg the b t of white drape^ over Tei^^'s he^ ^^^
bear me no maUoe, come b«>k to me when Meniere o«, .^
je«ag how Tessa started and dirank at the action of tteT^n-
Tito pushed his way rigorously toward the comer of a side
de Bardi, and intending to get rid of the poor Uttle contadina
as soon as possible. The next street, tocThad its passM*^^
mchned to make holiday remarks on so lus«alaT«^7b^
they had no sooner entered it than he «ud, in a kind but hw-
ned manner, "Now, little one, where we;,you going? Te
you come by yourself to the Festa?"
a«!l^'"°I 'w w"'"*' ^°°^« '^8'"«"'^ ""* distressed
^, I have lost my mother in the crowd-her and my
&ther-m.Uw They will be angry-he will beat me uZ
I c^^t'.^ "■ ^"^ Pulinari-somebody pushed me along I^
l^t. ^^'^^^' "^ ^ 8°* "'"y '"« them. Oh, I don't
know where they're gone! Please, don't leave me I''
wiS'a Mb." '"'"^^ "^^ **^ '«^' ">* *e end«l
Tito hurried along again : the Church of the Badia was not
^ NoMt wL'^f ^^r]^ talk to Tessa^p^aps leave
but th«v i T ^ 'T '* "^"^ the church was no? open:
but ttey paused under the shelter of the cloUter, and he said,
wS^ r" ''° °°'"'"', °' '■■'"'^ '" ^°"«"'<'. ^7 little TessS
™Zlf ^'"^°""°,:^ 'ouafr,id of walking^
y^urseU smce you h ^ ^ ^^ ^ . « "^
am u a hurry to eet to c r J^.,ij i i
where near--" *^ ^ ~"^'^ *»^" y°" "y-
And^l* Hn^.? ff '«''*«°!^ = he was the devU_I know he was.
And I don't know where to go. I have nob^y: and mj"
^ • tl» !.„:.> ii»M •»
TJHDEB THB PLANI-TRBt. 113
iMttw nieant to have h.r dinner .omewhere, «id I don't know
where. /loly Madonna 1 I ahaU be beaten '•
The comers of the pouting mouth went down piteouslv and
tt« poor httU3 bo«,m with the bead, on it above thi^^U™
gown heaved so, that there wa. no longer any hel^h'^a
^ud «>b u^« ^me, and the big tears feU ^ 7f th« wer^
^Cbt'tilt f""- . "'" '" • "*-«-' " --^d
- ^"j .^\'"'''«d »t «»»t moment that he had not teen
•xpwtod in the Via de' Bardi. A, he saw her Hftingl her
Sit/r *° '*'°!' the h„,^g tesrs, h. laid hfs ^"
can be done. Where is your home-where do you live? "
JirdTps-^zTiSctr" '^'^ ^ '"'*^''' " "*^
yo:w::'to''j;..^''^°" " ""^'"^^' "you-UteHmewher.
•.rrh^™"^" '.!"l'°'^ ?""*''' *"" '^K*" *° '°ok as contented
as a ohemb's budding from a cloud. The diaboUcal ooniuiw
wW.~^"^ w *° ''°°'^' " y°"'" *»^» "">>" "1"' ""d. in a half
^isper, looking up at Tito with wide blueeyeCand^
•omething sweet.r than a smUe-with a ohUdlike «Jm.
Come, then little one," said Tito, in a caressing tone, put-
tmg her arm within his again. « Which way is it? » ^
«?^?? Peretola-where the large pear-tree is."
Peretola? Out at which gate, pazzarella? I am a stran-
ger, you must remember."
"Ou^ at the Per del Prato," said Tessa, moving along with
a very fast hold on Tito's arm. -» « """"K ^^
.n^l*^'** "ot know all the turnings well enough to venture on
ZntV^'^^" l'" '»""'*«'* "*'««*«; and beside<s°°
occurred to him that where the passengers were most nu-
^rnt'o^r ^f ' P?*«P». ">« ""ost chance of meeting with
MonnaQhita and finding an end to his knight-errantship So
he made straight for Porte Bossa, and on to Ognissanti, show-
ing his usual bright propitiatory face to the Sxed ob^w
tl
'■ If
n4
ROMOLA.
w»aw*Ubei«Ufy. Mingled with the more decent hoUdw-
S:^?:!,''"'J??""*""' "PP^ntio-i, rather ^xnon^f
ririon at Tito', evident h^itej dioer., .har^ and loZS«
oonoert at th. mort brutal street game.: for the .treeto of
u^^onrbr " •"'"' '°" ^ ''• »"'"* '- "<" '•">%
hi,^.*^t^I ""^"1^k\^'"" d'Ogni.«mti, Tito .laokened
hu pace, they were both heated with their hurried walk, and
„t ^r" * '^ ''•'•" ^"^ '^^ t^« brwith They
sat down on one of the stone benches which were frequeS
•gainst the walls of old Florentine honw. ™1»™»
fJl^°/^ VirginI " said Tessa; " I am glad we hare got awar
y^'co^^M'tTr-oS^^.V --Iwasnotfrightenearb^Z:
.^Liyo^iSlfZUtSe^i^"^^'*'-- "^
P.l^T/°" ■" ,? '^"t«^-like the i«opl. going into
Paradise: they are all good."
„M t!? ' '°°' ''^"* ■^°* y°" h^ yo" breakfast, Tewa."
«d Tib^ seeing «,me rtalU near, with fruit and swertmS^
upon them. "Are you hungry?" """""aw
" Ye^ I think I am-if you will haye some too."
thStSi* a'p^."^"'"*'' '^' *^"' *""* ~"^*^ -<> P-*
"Come," he said, "let us walk on to the Prato, and then
perhap. you wiU not be afraid to go the r4st of the ^ay alon^
But you wUl haye some of the apricots and things," said
th7n7.nl. l>«^econt«iina who might inspire a better idyl
than Lorena, de' Medici's ' Neneiada Barberino,' that NeUo's
to^dJlM;'""*' " ^ ^'^ «°'J' » '^'>~«"*". o' had time
to oultiyate the necessary experience by un««inable walks
WDMR TH* PLAKl-TRBa.
lUt
<rf thi. iortl Howerer, the miwhief is done now: I m «,
" We hare a garden and plenty of pears," uid Tena. "and
tjro oow^ beaide. the mule,; and I'm Teiy fand of tW But
myf^er-m-law « , ore. man: I wiah my mother had not
mwned^. I think he i, wicked; he i. yery ugly."
And doea your mother let him beat you, porerkia? You
•Md you were afraid of being beaten." ' ^ *^ »f lou
«rter better, and think. I don't do ;ork enough. NoWy
T^ kmdly to me, only the Pieyaao" (pariri, prieat) « whej
I go to confession. And the men in the Meroato laugh at me
«d make fun of me. Nobody ever kis<»d me and spoke t^
me a. you do, ju.t as I talk to my little black-faced Ud. be-
cauM I'm Teiy fond of it."
.nl*.r'°'^°°rJ*°,^*''* *°*'™^ T"""'" °^d that there was
wy chuige m Tito', appearance since the morning he begged
the mUk from her, and that he looked now like a personagf f»
whom Bbe must summon her little stock of revereVt words and
^' V u^ •n'P'es«Hl her too differently from any human
«„™f. • ^r'".,'^' "«" ^« before, for her to make any
companaon of details; she took no note of his dress; he wm
simply a voice and a face to her, something come fr Jm Para-
diM into a world where moet thing, seemed hard and amnr •
and .he prattled with as little restraint as if he had beenLi'
irn^ary companion bom of her own lovingnes. and the sun-
They had now reached the Prato, which at that time waa a
httge open space within the walls, where the Florentine youth
played at their favorite Caicio-„ peculiar kind of football-
Md otherwise exercised themselves. At this midday time it
was forsaken and quiet to the very gates, where a tent had
teen erected m preparation for the race. On the border of
this wide meadow, Tito paused and said,—
w.'l7r' '^T'2 ^v°" '''" °°' ^ lightened if I leave you to
wiUk the rest of the way by yourself. Addiol ShaU I come
and buy a cup of milk from you in the Meroato to-morrow
morning, to see that you are quite safe? »
•«<"OCO»Y MSOUmOM TBT CMAIT
(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHAKT No. 2)
iift
1.4
^ /APPLIED IIVHGE he
■^— ~- 1653 Et»t Mom Strtvt
=^ ii»och«t«r, Nmr Vorii 14809 USA
SiS {'t6) 482 - 0300 - Phor)«
S^S (716) 2B8-MS9-Fg)<
116
ROMOLA.
1^'
He added thw questUm in a eoothing toneu at lie saw her
eyee ^denmg sorrowfuUy, and the comer, of her month faU-
l2fv«i i" . ?'*^*. "' ^*' "^^ °°^y "P"^ !■« »Pn»» aid
looked down at her apncots and Bwettmeats. Then she looked
np at him again and said oomplaiiiingly,—
"I thought you would have some, and we could ait down
under a tree outside the gate, and sat them together."
Tif/T"" J™"*" ^**° ^^^ """' y°" '0"l"i ™in me," said
Tito, laughing, and kissing both her cheeks. "I ought to
have been in the Via de' Bardi long ago. Nol I must go back
Addior ° *" ""'° ^«^^- Tht'rfr-rU take an apricot
He had already stepped two yard,, from her when he said
the last word Tessa could not have spoken; she was pale,
u^dagreat gob was rising; but she turned round as /she
feltthere was no hope for her, and stepped on, holding her
apion so forgetfully that the apricots began to i^W out oi the
Tito could not help looking after her, and seeing her shoul-
ders rise to tte bursting sob, and the apricots faU-oould not
help gomg after her and picking them up. It was very hard
upon him : he was a long way off the Via de' Bardi, and very
near to Tessa. ^ ^^
"See, my silly one," he said, picking up the apricots.
"Come, We off crying, I will go with yoi^ and wVTrii
down under the tree. Come, I don't like to see yon ciy; but
you know I must go back some time. "
So it came to pass that they found a great plane-tree not fiir
outside the gates, and they sat down under it, and aU the feast
was spread out on, Tessa's lap, she leaning with her back
ag^t the toink of the tree, and he stretched opposite to her,
restang his elbows on the rough green growth cherished by the
shade, whUe the sunlight stole through the boughs and played
about them like a winged thing. Tessa's face was aU content-
ment ag^ and the taste of the apricots and sweetmeats seemed
very good. -^^^ou
;'You pretty birdl" said Tito, looking at her as she sat
eying the remains of the feast with an evident mental debate
about savmg them, since he had said he would not have any
irNDEB Tna planx-trbb.
117
™^;ii "J\^ "f "y »"• "^i^g youl Wh«t nn. do
you tell of at oonfesiion, Tessa? "
"Oh, a great many. I am often naughty. 1 don't like
work, and I «m't help being idle, though I know I shil te
beatai and scolded; and I gire the mules the best fodder when
nobaiy sees me, and then when the Madre is angrv I sav I
didn't do iii and that makes me frightened at the^eriT^ I
2S!^,T, *',!l°^r' T ^^ ■*•'"• I »m not so frightened
^l2^.^ confession. And see, I've got a £^,6 here
ttat a good father who came to Prato preaching this Easter
blessed and gave us aU.» Here Tessa drew from her bosonTa
tiny bag carefully fastened up. "And I think the holy Ma-
donna wiU take care of me; she looks a^ if she would; and
perhaps If I wasn't idle, she wouldn't let me be beaten •'
If they are so cruel to you, Tessa, shouldn't you like to
We ttem, and go and live with a beautiful lady who would
be kmd to you, if she would have you to wait upon her? "
Tessa seemed to hold her breath for a moment or two
Then she said doubtfuUy, « I don't know."
™-^r"^J^^^* ^"?,?*' *" ** "•3' ""'« »«"»"'. "nd live with
me? said Tito, smilmg. He meant no more than to see what
sort of pretty look and answer she would give.
miere was a flush of joy immediately. « Will you take me
with yon now? Ahl I shouldn't go home and be beaten then."
She paused a httle while, and then added more doubtfuUy.
But I should hke to fetch my black-faced kid "
• ''^'^. yo"?""** 8° ^0^ to yonr kid, my Tessa," said Tita
nsmg, « and I must go the other way." ^
^l^^T!?''." ^* ^^^ ^ ^^ ''«"* '«»n under the shade
^«:*^/ , T." ??* ; P^**^* *^« °* ^y *» '>lk from here
to the Via de' Bardij I am more inclined to lie down and sleep
in this shade." '^
It ended so. Tito had an uncnnquerable aversion to any-
aung unpleasant, even when an object very much loved and
desir^ was on the other side of it He had risen early • had
waited; had seen sights, and had been already walking in the
sun: he was inclined for a siesta, and inclined all the more
bBMuse httle Tessa was there, and seemed to make the air
•tfter. He lay down on the grass again, putting hia cap un*
118
ROMOLA.
i / •' .
der his head on a gieen tuft by the side ex Tessa Th«.f -..
not quite comfortable; so he moved again, andTiedSa^
m'ZT T^T T'^n'^' '^P'^^^ that wl/hToon
ttii asleep. TesTa sat quiet as a dove on its nest, iust ven-
c^K feu wr 'f^^'^P' *» '"""^ *^« wondei^ ^k
Zt 1 . ^^"""^ fro"* hi» ear. She was too happrto
go to sleep-too happy to think that Tito would wake up Ld
that tten he would leave her, and she must go home. It ^es
IZufY^"^' '?.'""^'' " P*'^'"* P°°l f» a ttay fish, w^^
It will find Its world and paradise aU in one, and never lIvH
presentunent of the dry bank. The fretted summerTad^^d
stillness^ and the gentle breathing of some lovTufe nea^!"!
wou^d be paradise to us all. if ea^r thought, the stlg^Te
wxafte implacable brow, had not long sLe closedX^Ttes
f),« In / T' " '""^ "^'^^ ^^°^^ *h« '^'Aing oame-C
and then with a smile, which was soon quenched by • jme nr^
occupying thought. Tito's deeper sleep had broken int^Tdor
rfre^^ft^he^hirr^^tirhLvt^LF'
J^Z^y, 'Tr' ^°* ^''^^ ''' -« sleep tooU %-^^.
Addio," he ended, patting her cheek with one hanr^d^tl
tling his cap with the other. ^
She said nothing, but there were signs in her face which
heli-cormtr^ ^ - -'^°- -"- chidin/Ttot:;
no^ri^r™^-;^-----
faced kid, or If you like you may go back to the Jate andle
the horses start. But I can stay with you no lonee^ ^d i?
you cry, I shall think you are troublesome to me " '
Titlt'!"""^ *^T ''"" "^^^"^ by *«"»' at this change in
s^le whh JT "^^.^o^y pale, and sat in tremflin^
silence, with her blue eyes widened by arrested tears.
Look now." Tito went on, soothingly, opening the waflet
tJimXR THE PLANE-THEB 119
" AhT . f„\'»P- -A-mong them was his onyx rine
you. CoS undo Sjd » °" ""^ ''"' ' "^ -' -tJ'
to'Srmelf„cr'*-?'''^''"^^"^8 '"""^ *^»* lif« "as going
And now you will give me a kiss " HniH Tit„
But Tessa had obedientiy put forward hnrl,™ ;
and kissed his cheek as he^hu'ng downtis fi" " " "'""''"''
he waTin%^rfrt/l';\^-^y' -''-^^"^--'i till
that she was makmg no signs of distress, it was enough Z
r
m^^^^^^^^^^mTM
130
ROHOLA.
if
: ^^-t
Titoif BhedidnototywUlehewasppMent. The goftness of
his nature required that all sorrow should be hidden awav
from hi . •'
"I wonder when Eomola will kiss my cheek in that way?"
thought Tito, as he walked along. It seemed a tiresome dis-
tance now, and he almost wished he had not been so soft-
hearted, or so tempted to linger in the shade. No other ex-
cuse was needed to Bardo and Bomola than saying simply that
he had been unexpectedly hindered: he felt confident their
proud delicacy would inquire no farther. He lost no time in
getting to Ognissanti, and hastily taking some food there, he
crossed the Amo by the Ponte alia Carraja, and made hU way
as directly as possible toward the Via de' Bardi.
But it was the hour when all the world who meant to be in
particularly good time to see the Corso were returning from
the Borghi, or villages juEt outside the gates, where they had
dined and reposed themselves; and the thoroughfares leading
to the bridges were of course the issues toward which the
stream of sightseers tended. Just as Tito reached the Ponte
Vecchio and the entrance of the Via de' Bardi, he was sud-
denly urged back toward the angle of the intersecting streets.
A company on horseback, coming from the Via Guicoiardini,
and turning up the Via de' Bardi, had compelled the foot-
passengers to recede hurriedly. Tito had been walking, as his
manner was, with the thumb of his right hand resting in his
belt; and as he was thus forced to pause, and was looking
carelessly at the passing cavaliers, he felt a veiy thin cold
hand laid on his. He started round, and saw the Dominican
friar whose upturned face had so struck him in ihe morning.
Seen closer, the fape looked more evidently worn by sickness
and not by age; and again it brought some strong but indefi-
nite reminiscences to Tito.
"Pardon me, but— from your face and your ring "—said
the friar, in a faint voice, " b not your name Tito Melema? "
"Yes," said Tito, also speaking faintly, doubly jarred by
the cold touch and the mystery. He was not apprehensive or
timid through his imagination, but through his sensations and
perceptions he could easily be made to shrink and turn pale
like a maiden.
TITO'S DILEMMA. 121
;^lien I shall fulfil my oommission."
mmmm
on hi, right f^efing^ » " ^"*' ""'' " ''"•^'' '^V' '%
"r«™.^7T^ ■. '""^^ "w word! were.—
1 nad It from a man who waa dying "
' Tou know the contents? "
feebler, sik doln o^^i itne^r.' ^'"^.'^''°-« feebler and
I am at San Marco; my name is Fra Luoa."
CHAPTER XI.
Tito's dilemma.
passengers hein^ rUo.ed, Tf^'i'trS st^'
123
ROHOLA.
into the oburoh of Santa Felioit4 that Tito alao wt&t on Ua
way along the Via de' Bardi.
"If this monk ii a Florentine," he said to himaelf, "if he
is going to remain at Florence, everything roust be dis-
closed." He felt that a new crisis had come, but he was not,
for all that, too evidently agitated to pay his visit to Bardo,
and apologize for his previous non-appearance. Tito's talent
for conoealment was being fast developed into something less
neutral. It was still possible — perhaps it might be inevitable
— for him to accept frankly the altered conditions, and avow
Baldassarre's existence; but hardly without casting an un-
pleasant light backward on his original reticence as studied
equivocation in order to avoid the fulfilment of a secretly rec-
ognized claim, to say nothing of his quiet settlement of him-
self and investment of his florins, when, it would be clear,
his benefactor's fate had not been certified. It was at least
provisionally wise to act as if nothing had happened, and for
the present he would suspend decisive thought; there was all
the night for meditation, and no one would know the precise
moment at which he had received the letter.
So he entered the room on the second story — where Bomola
and her father sat among the parchment and the marble, aloof
from the life of the streets on holidays as well as on common
days — with a face only a little less bright than usual, from
regret at appearing so late : a regret which wanted no testi-
mony, since he had given up the sight of the Corso in order
to express it; and then set himself to throw extra animation
into the evening, though all the while his consciousness was
at work like a machine with complex action, leaving deposits
quite distinct from the line of talk; and by the time he de-
scended the stone stairs and issued from the grim door in the
starlight, his mind had really reached a new stage in its for-
mation of a purpose.
And when, the next day, after he was free from his profes-
sorial work, he turned up the Via del Cocomero toward the
convent of San Marco, his purpose was fully shaped. He was
going to ascertain from Fra Luca precisely how much he con-
jectured of the truth, and on what grounds he conjectured it;
and, further, how long he was to remain at San Marco. And
h.^
■nrO'S DILEMMA. 123
once .„^ that on a f aifas ir,tf 1 falw W.t„"' ''^
whereabout^ he would unheeitatinXs^rfterhrt'r Jf*
f, ^h was he bound to go? mL l^okL ^^ , ^"'' »*^
the end of aU life h„t t^ « / Ji?^ ^'"^ ** closely, was
And was not h ^^"tL™ V,^" "*'°°'".''"- of pl^iure?
bly more pleasm* w T l * ,1 " P""°'"« °* inoompara-
keen enjoyn^ent, -d Xl* raa'SdTiCed tVl" "^ "'
ngidity? Thoan Mo-. ^»j ii l stiffened into barren
orderofthi^gTtwttnT \™V*''''*'*«'''<'P"P«'
« a mere nid'^r^lrVol ^^^^'1^'^-'" -^l-atZ,
Imd had his draught of life- Tito^«^^ .."'"' ^ "*"'•
^ And the prosp^t ^Jtyl^e-^^ft^Zt *"° "'"•.
2^^::^r:£'peS:;^rtr^^^/^S^
pm-andtheroretri^Jl^irs:^' B^ST ^ ^
m the narrow sense by which the rieht of ^n ' ^'^^'^'^ =
mined in ordinary affairs- but in fW ? ^^^""^ « deter-
cally natural vi^^ by ^^h 1' wc ^ ^iZTf '^"V"'
sta,ngth, they were rather hi' wh coSiTtrL^th^ '^^
pleasure out of thm. That h« »«. extract the most
sentiment which th° ompiic^i^ pZ oTh ''°"'' Tf- °°* *^«
engendered in society The ™«n o "^^T*" ***'^8S had
*at he should i^meLte^ya^tZ"^''"" ^"'1'* "P*"'
factor's rescue. But what w^^ I « "'"^ *° "^ •^"O"
' i
'' '
ilia.
//
1 1 'i
m
ROMOLA.
tort WM ooBonnad. Not tl»t he oared for the florins nre
perhapn for Bomola's lake i he would give up the florins rradily
enough. It was the jojr that was due to him and was close to
his lips which he felt he was not bound to thrust away from
him and so tra^." . i, thirsting. Any maxims that required
a man to fling awr- the good that was needed to make ezUt-
enoe sweet were only the lining of human selfishness turned
outward: they were made by men who wanted others to sac-
nfloe themselTes for their sake. He would rather that Bal-
dassarre should not suffer: he liked no one to suffer: but
could any phUraophy prove to him that he was bound to care
for another's suffering more than for his own? To do so he
must have loved Baldassarre devotedly, and he did not love
him: was that his own fault? Gratitude I seen closely, it
made no valid claim: his fa'"jer'B life would have been dreary
without him : are we convicted of a debt to men for the pleas-
ures they give themselves?
Having once begun to explain away Biadassarre's claim,
Tito 8 thought showed itself as active as a virulent acid, eat-
ing its rapid way through all the tissues of sentiment. His
nund was destitute of that dread which has been erroneously
decned as if it were notiiing higher than a man's animal care
for his own skin : that awe of the Divine NemesU which was
felt by religious pagans, and, though it took a more positive
form under Christianity, is still felt by the mass of mankind
simply as a vague fear at anything which is called wiong-
domg. Such terror of the unseen is so far above mere sensual
cowardice that it will annitUate that cowardice : it is the in-
itaal recognition of a moral law restraining desire, and checks
the hard bold scrutiny of imperfect thought into obUgations
which can never be proved to have any sanctity in tiie absence
of feeling. " It is good, " sing the old Eumenides, in ^schy-
lus, ' that fear should sit as the guardian of tiie soul, forcing
It mto wisdom— good that men should carry a threatening
^ow in their hearts under the full sunshine; else, how
should they learn to revere the right?" That guardianship
may become needless; but only when aU outward law has be-
come needless— only when duty and love have united in one
stream and made a common force.
THB PRIZB 18 HBARLY ORAflPED. 136
hrkSrC: *''°'"" *«» cultured and toeptioal for th.t^
Sp^urvr:ra"p""'r ^* r. *^« *?>- <^pS.u£.
dl.n..t!r „ . prorerb, and in erud te familiaritv with
^^^ «iw» migot M the means of driTing him from Flor-
whose duU glance impUed no curiosity. ~""»«>"<^ •»«
Thanks; my business can wait."
^^ as^^J, '*''"''* ^°"' '»"^' ""y «Pl»nat{on
*H« 1 .13 NEAXLT OBASPXD.
hJ™ bff i7J halightstep, forthelmmedlatefear
M«.mS^te^,L, • loy^'^nes" o' his disposition re-
devotedness, that patient .... -^^ of r^nT^wf f"*^
which he had shrunk and e, • , J, « » ° ^^ ""
out of love with goodness or t. i • ' ^^ "' '
was in KJc t^jT^^' '^ ' ''^8» into ▼!<»: he
was in his fresh youth, witL » ^r aU ohwin and
.^p
128
BOMOLA.
.1:
ft i- ?
II
ll
Sd h^Jf'f P<»~n could only work by deg^^THelS
«m A ^ to 'vU, but at pr.«,nt lifo «,em«l «, nearly X
«me to hm, that he wa. not ooomIou. of th. bond. He
meant aU thing, to go on aa they had done before, 1^ ^ithl
Md without h.m: hemeuitto win golden opinion/^ in«^
^o„. exertion, by ingenlou, learning. byam'ubl.oo^C^:
he wa. not gomg to do anything that would throw him out of
~,?/"i ^\^'^«* he c«ed for. And he^ed .u-
premely for Komolai he wi.hed to have her for hi. beautiful
the ultimate reach of .uooesirful aooomplidiment. like hi..
tat there wa. no woman in all Florence like Bomola. When
he wa. near him^ and looked at him with her .incere haze"
f.es, hewa. .ubdued by » deUciou. influence a. .troni and
mentabea.a.osemu.ical vibration, which ta"e J^^
d« '^i ? tfV'l^''' -"Pi" that no «»ner ce^-.'^Zw^
desire it to begin again. ^^
^^ \*^^ *** "J"'" •*•'"' ^^^ !"• "">» •«" outride the
tZ:^ °? ""^ u^J^""" "" h™' ^' "fl^^ce »eemed to
"« w^,^ '^^.°'^ ^y ""> """« "«»"«" t anticipation.
« Welcome. Tito mio," «iid the old man , .-oice, ^foreTito
had .poken. There wa. a new vigor in ie voice, a new
cheerfuhiew ir. the blind face, since that first interview xn^I
fo^bt r«.'"hnf'' "^' ''°" ^"'•^ ^""8" '"'"• manuscripl*
doubtlewi but since we were talking last night I have had
new Idea. : we must take a wider scope-we must go bwk
upon our footstep.." ^ '
..I!!°l^^'°^^"^°°'*«**°^°"'l* "' !"« advanced, went
^ th^ n"l Tw"' "*',!"«''* *° ^"''°''' "'"'"' "^d P"t h U hand
m the pain, that was held to receive it, placing hiiiself ou the
cross-legged leather seat with scrolled ends, close to sLdo^"
JL^l^"^^^^i^\^^'^ «'*°"* "^y! "I l'a^« brought the
new manuscript, but that can wait your pleasure. I have
young limbs, you know, and can walk back up the hiU with-
out any difficulty."
QuSwiuTw^'"'^''"'"''* "' '"' ""''1 ^"' '"»» ^' know
quite weU that her eyes were fiied on him with delight.
i «
• T . ■iTT^mal
THE PRIZK IB NKARLV OHAHPBD. 127
iiwo in this w«y once or twice of l>ts " a^j t """""w
lively, and which may never occur again. You mark wh.f
I am saying, Tito? " *ou mars what
^r-^s^-eTeS^rz-:,--
tLn*'at oZri; '; '" "^-J '"'^ "P ^ *^»' '"^^^ ^d^.
wSuU t^W r """i""""' ''^^^ ""^ the chief intel-
se^m e4 ^"'*''''' '"'°''**"'° """ """d^ everything
on'lfjj'"'^'^'" ^" '""'^' "y"" '''»•' to enlarge your comment.
on certain passages we have cited " comments
social study; for I may die too soon to achieve any separate
ranee that we have to fear, but when there are men Uke TaJ^
128
ROMOLA.
\n
^. "^T. »'?""»?'' to a»«» own mistakes. Wherefore, my
Tito, I thwk It not weU that we should let slip the oooirion
that lies under our hands. And now we will turn back to the
point where we have cited the passage from Thucydides, and
I wish you, by way of preliminary, to go with me through all
my notes on the Latin translation made by Lorenzo VaUa, for
which the inoomparable Pope Nicholas V.-with whose per-
r™?«U tJ"" T^'* "^^^ ^ "■" y"* y°"»8, and when
he was stall Thomas of Sarzana-paid him (I say not unduly)
the sum of five hundred gold scudi. But iiJasmich as VaU^
though otherwise of dubious fame, is held in high honor ioT
his severe scholarship, whence the epigrammatist has jocosely
said of him that since he went among the shades, Pluto him-
self has not dared to speak in the ancient languages, it is the
more needful that his name should not be as a^stl^ war"aLt!
InMf'^ IT' '^^ *?'*"*°™ ^ """'"^ ^^""^ <^ ^r^
on rhucydides, wherein my castigations of VaUa's text may
find a fittmg place. My Eomola, thou wUt reach the needfiU
^cdumes-thou knowest them-on the fifth shelf of the cab-
Tito rose at the same moment with Komola, saying, "I wiU
reach them, if you wUl point them oul^" aid Sed Ter
hastUy mto the adjoining smaU room where the walls were
also covered with ranges of books in perfect order.
There they are," said Eomola, pointing upward; "every
book IS just where It was when my father ceased to see them."
Tito stood by her without hastening to reach the books.
They had never been in this room together before.
I hope, ' she continued, turning her eyes full on Tito with
a look of grave confidence-" I hope he will not weary yon:
tnis work makes him so happy."
"And me too Eomola^if you will only let me say, I love
you-if you will only think me worth loving a little »
His speech was the softest murmur, and the dark beautiful
face, nearer to hers than it had ever been before, was looking
at her with beseeching tenderness.
„u'wt° '"''* ^°"'", """""""d Bo'uola! she looked at him
with the same simple majesty as ever, but her voice had never
in her hie before sunk to that murmur. It seemed to them
THE PRIZE IS NEARLY GRASPED.
.tS:^rCtp!^„r^,r ''Sc^^^^^^ ^o, an in.
Tito set his foot o^T^S :■ Ti^ ** lightning after that,
reached dowft^e'nS S'^TW *" ""L'"?"'^" ^^
to be silent and separate for t w « T !7. ''*" '""' contented
"You have the volumes, mv Romola? » f),» u
aa they came near him ag«in ^d nn„ ^•,?'^ ""'^
pen ready; for, as TitoXts offTiT TT- ^°" ""^^ ««* ^"^
extracting it wiU be weU f^ ?5 f '°^°^* '" determine on
-numbefLg Zn cSv Zi H° °.°^^ '*''" "•*^°"* <!«%
numbers in L ZT^t :^irit "'™''^°' ''*" ""«
both'wrote^d Jd an^2'^ll™A""';!'^««*°' '^''«" ''^
front of him, wh^e sh^ w« ^^ ''"'*" " » *»"« Jn^t in
hands anySnlS; he 3!1<T^ *° '^"•' ^'^ '"'' other's
of a volu3tt ht IS Jrr %^J-^ » "«e- him
that position since the work bS v^ on ?v ^"'?'' '^''° ^
new; it was so differentVow Kem tot. "^ '* '"^""^
other; so different for Tito tTtake a W^. °^i^"^ '^^
lifted it from her father's knee Yet ^ " ^*'' "" "''«
^.oia-s zrJ^z^^LXz:.'r^ ii^- -;
siting because of the fadiTgUghtwLArd ""'' ^"^' *^''-
there entered a figure stranLw ,•„! door opened, and
I
il
/]
130
BOMOLA.
cap, embroidered with pearls, under which surprisingly mai-
sive black braids surmounted the little bulging forehead, and
fell in rich plaited curves over the ears, while an equally sur-
prising carmine tint on the upper region of the fat cheeks
contrasted with the surrounding sallowness. Three rows of
peails and a lower necklace of gold reposed on the horizontal
cushion of her neck; the embroidered border of her trailing
black velvet gown and her embroidered long-drooping sleeves of
rose-colored damask, were slightly faded, but they conveyed to
the mitiated eye the satisfactory assurance that they were the
splendid result of six months' labor by a skilled workman, and
the rose-colored petticoat, with its dimmed white fringe and
seed-pearl arabesques, was duly exhibited in order to suggest a
smiilar pleasing reflection. A handsome coral rosary hung
from one side of an inferential belt, which emerged into cer-
tainty with a large clasp of sUver wrought in nieUo: and on
the other side, where the belt again became inferential, hung
a scarsella, or large purse, of crimson velvet, stitched with
pearls. Her little fat right hand, which looked as if it had
been made of paste, and had risen out of shape under partial
baking, held a small book of devotions, also splendid with
velvet, pearls, and silver.
The figure was already too familiar to Tito to be startling
for Monna Brigida was a frequent visitor at Bardo's, being
excepted from the sentence of banishment passed on feminine
triviality, on the ground of her cousinship to his dead wife
and her early care for Eomola, who now looked i ound at her
with an affectionate smile, and rose to draw the leather seat
to a due distance from her father's chair, that the coming gush
of talk might not be too near his ear.
"Laeugina?'' said Bardo, interrogatively, detecting the
short steps and the sweeping drapery.
"Yes, it is your cousin," said Monna Brigida, in an alert;
voice, raising her fingers smilingly at Tito, and then liftina
up her face to be kissed by Romola. "Always the trouble-
some oousm breaking in on your wisdom," she went on, seating
herself and beginning to fan herself with the white veil hang-
ing over her arm. " Well, well; if I didn't bring you some
news of the worid now and then, I do beUeve yon' d forget there
THE PBIZB IS KlJ4RI,y QR^gpi^, jgj
"^Ki u 1 m not as wise as the three kin™ T t« >.
totCl' f. f "^ '■^'^ °* FraQirolamo's making C
to think of two families like the Albizzi and tha *„„■ • i- H.
r^LT Y 7 "'^**'^ °"^''"' «>«? «°"Id do no oUier see
mg my husband was Luca Antonio's uncle bv th«T^!^'.. f
E. ,"„"s:':f Si* -r? "ir* *™«°'«^*'
132
ROMOLA.
11. ■
had nothmg to do now but to buy their coffin., and think it
a thouaand years till they get into them, insteid of enjoying
toemselves a little when they've got their hands free fir the
first time. And what do you think was the music we had. to
make our dinner lively? A long discourse from Fra Domwico
of San Marco, about the doctrines of their blessed Fra Girolamo
™»rwl^?K '*<"'^«»J« "8 aU to get by heart; and he kept
aud the first 1^ Florence, or the Church_I don't know whiX
for first he said one and then the other-shall be scourged-
but If he means the pestUence, the Signory ought to put a
stop to such preaching, for it's enough to raise the swelling
Korence is to be regenerated; but what will be the good of
^nlTKrii^i**"*^ °^ *^" P'-'K"*' " somethinrelse?
,V. iff°'vl " ^"\^^«' »°'i 'i»t ^0 said oftenest. is, that
It s all to be in our days: and he marked that off on his thumb
till he made me tremble like the very jelly before me. They
had jellies, to be sure, with the arms of the Albizzi and the
Acciajoh raised on them in all colors; they've not turned the
world quite upside down yet. But aU their talk is, that we
are to go back to the old ways : for up starts Francei,o Valori!
that I've danced with in the Via Larga when he was a bach-
elor Mid as fond of the Medici as anybody, and he makes a
s^ch about the old times, before tJie Florentines had left
off c^g Popolo ' and begun to cry ' PaUe '-as ii that had
anything to do with a weddingl-and how we ought to keep to
the rules the Signory laid down Heaven knows when, ttat
we were not to w*ar this and that, and not to eat thi^ and
that-and how our manners were corrupted and we read bad
books; though he can't say that of me "
"Stop, cousin 1» said Bardo, in his imperious tone, for he
had a remark to make, and only desperate measures could
arrest the ratting lengthiness of Monna Brigida's discourse
But now she gave a little start, pursed up her mouth, and
looked at hun with round eyes.
« " ^'*"°^'? y*'"" " "ot altogether wrong, » Bardo went on.
Bernardo, indeed, rates him not highly, and is rather of
opinion that he christens private grudges by the name of pub-
THB PRIZE IS NIARLY GRASPED. 133
SrS'&l'S^;* "*??'* Aatmygood Bernardo i. too
S.^1 L , * ** unalloyed patriotism which was found
m aU ita luetre amongst the ancients. But it is tru^ tT
wr ""rr ^T •^-e*'-™*''! •""'ewhat from Z nobk
frngahty which, as has been well seen in the pubUc acta of
our citizens ia the parent of true magnificence For men
M I hear wiU now spend on the transient show of a «i™t~
J^s which would suffice to found a librar?. a^d oonf™ '^
lastmg possession on mankind. Still I onn«Bi« if "
Tbril" ^Tlr '^"^ - •-- ml ofZtTa^^r^:
Mbnety which abhors a trivial lavishness that if maTbe
grandly open-handed on grand occasious, than can be foZl i!
any other city of Italy, for I understand thatXe NelS
andMilanese courtiers laugh at the scarcity of our plate Imd
^y^^m °^-°"' ^^' *'™"'«" f» bonowinTfrot'e^h
other that furniture of the table at their entertainmente But
m the vam laughter of folly wisdom hears half its appW "
Laughter, indeedl " burst forth Monna Brigida ag^^ tie
W Sif*^^^"? "-^ ^«»PP°i"ted, for when j^u5
STl^l^^^H- ' wt *? °"^'' * ^"^"^ "^^ *°W stories ou!
to m^r ^f^^^^'' """k, how it was no use for the Signoria
to make rules for us women, because we were cleverer th^
aU the pamters, and architects, and doctors of logirinlS
world, for we could make black look white, and yeUow look
d?;f c^rdlnf' "*'"«'*' '^^ " '-^•'-« ' -""i^
oen, we could find a new name for it-Holy Vireinl the
Saoohetti's book was wicked. Well, I don't read it^^^v
Wt accuse me of reading anything. Save me Zi ^^Z
a weddmg again, if that's to be the fashion; for all ofTwho
were not Piagnoni were as comfortable as wet ohickZ I
was never ca.-ght in a worse trap but once before an^;^^
hi , ri ' ^'*''*' "y "°°<i ^'•e'' I tJ>i"k of it. How
lump, of flesh, and wantons, and mischief-makers-and I
IM
BOKOLA.
shook the very Lch ™Jr, » ??'^ "'"' ""^ ^'"^ "« ^«<*
the dreams I had after thftf I a«j ti, "'" """^ ^»">- Oh,
his hands at uTaTl S t^^ i'd . ' "'1^' '^'^ '^f
take off my jewels thiB v!t ^' ^.*° «° ^'"°«' «"<i <»
makethem^itra'SetTJif"^' ■^•^.^'ything, and to
of sending them to'^^eGoS£o7'st"^l"T'*^'''^
poor, but, by Heaven's m^v I beluthf ,*° ^'^ *" *^'
my confessor. Fra CrisSf afSl^T 1^11"* *°
how It was aU the work of fhJ^ T^t'- "® *°^'* ™*
prophesying of theVS tiSL^rl^thr^'"^ ""^
were trying to turn the world^^e'do^n ^d f^T!:"^'
to go and hear him again else I m„.f ^7 ' ^T" °*'"
the great preachers W™^- . ^° penanee for it; for
how^ra Sr p«'rs!ld™th'?"'"'^'"'°'"'
I heard them both in the Duoiiir^l f^t "^ '^*' *»'
dream of San Frances! p^pX V"e Chll'" -^"^^^
arms was being fuMIled stUI »nH f ^ rf • ■ ''"* ^"
ginning to puU it down. We^l l5°T'*'"l'' ""^ '^■
JDio, and made myself easy I am ? ' ^ ''™* "^"^ <»»
by a Prate Predic^.to™ a^in tdX'fa*" t'"'^*''"^
hadn't been the I^minicrs tw^ tJ- "^ "' ^ '"'» **
for then I shonldTve S«M Zn ^^ '°^^. ^^ •8°'
was come back—I" * ^*° ^ ''*"«' ^^^ ^J he
looked ro^d^Kto"^ f/'t'^i "^'^^^ ""'' '''^'^' "^^
HonnaBrigidagave^lll^tlLTeL:'^^^^?' *° ^•
Night, acOTTuption of EpifexLiL windows on Twolftli
*H1 PRIZB IS H^^y ORA8PE1X 13B
"DooMl" said Baido. wain. "J,«.
Ufa. -Civr^xf th?^^rnrr ^^*° -^^
then, as he had aup^f." j,f"'^°'"^°''«»ot really dead.
Bon^ola that had m^^re' a^lrJtL^r**'' *° ^"^0 and
he were only dead at FiesoIrL ?w """^ *° ''^- «
ttmate selfish wish Inevi^w *f ' momenti This impar-
a^ought. U was true tLtt Cot S' "T/"" "''^ '^^
safeguard against anylLc^rh^f ""l""" " ''"*^"«°*
brother; but «<,« ^gL^^T^ ^"T ^°™''' «n<i !>«
others, especially wW^e „^'.'"y,^ °* ''l'»* he knew to
coupling o?^oJlaWmf:ithttom '"""^'r^f^ "^ "^^
whose description he hadoarr -h f 5^ ''"'^ ^•'° ^elema
Nol nothing but iVaLuoaTdrl.i''' °'* "^ "^ ^^«-
but Ilia deato was WgUy'^u!?^ could remove all danger,
come aid sit^le hel ■^'^ "'^ "" """^ *°-"'«l'*- Tito,
thSJTi^rsst-^rweu.
and let her arTrest oITw Z ^^l ^'"*" °° "^ 1°' "*«"
u. his h.d o^ Kr^^r::: a -5^^^* '- -«^'
T»m neve, told you that I had one. a t?«.id Bardc,
186
ROKOLA.
:^> -,
I , ''
forgetting what had fallen from him in the emotion raised by
their firgt interview. The old man had been deeply shaken,
and was forced to pour out his feelings in spite of pride.
" But he left me— he is dead to me. I have disowned him for-
ever. He was a ready scholar as you are, but more fervid
and impatient, and yet sometimes rapt and self-absorbed like
a flame fed by some fitful source j showing a disposition from
the very first to turn away his oyes from the clear lighU of
reason and philosophy, and to prostrate himself under the in-
fiuences of a dim mysticism which eludes all rules of human
duty as it eludes all argument And so it ended. We will
speak no more of him: he is dead to me. I wish hU face
could be blotted from that world of memory in which the dis-
tant seems to grow clearer and the near to fade."
^do paused, but neither Bomola nor Tito dared to speak
—his voice was too tremulous, the poise of his feelings too
doubtful. But he presently raised his hand and found Tito's
shoulder to rest it on, while he went on speaking, with an
effort to be calmer.
" But you have oome to me, Tito— not quite too late. 1
wm lose no time in vain regret. When you are working by
my side I seem to have found a son again."
The old man, preoccupied with the governing interest of his
life, was only thinking of the much-meditated book which had
quite thrust into the background the suggestion, raised by
Bernardo del Nero's warning, of a possible marriage between
Txto and Bomola. But Tito could not aUow the moment to
pass unused.
" wm you let iue be always and altogether your sou ? Will
you let me take care of Eomola— be her husband? I think
she wiU not deny me. She has said she loves me. I know I
am not equal to her in birth— in anything; but I am no longer
a destitute stranger."
"Is it true, my Bomola?" said Bardo, in a lower tone, an
evident vibration passing through him and dissipating the sad-
dened aspect of his features.
" Yes, father," said Bomola, firmly. " I love Tito— I wish
to marry him, that we may both be your children and never
part"
rBBVBIZRlB MUHLY GRASPED.
her father. *^'' ""* *"«"' *y« »«e fixed Mxioaely on
" Why ehonld It not be? » .ud B.~i-.
"7 oppoeition to hi. .went JT^V *'»«*"« •gain.t
would be •hapDine.Ttn!!!^ Z*^" "'»» aeeenting/ "it
other We than^te And thT*,.*^' """" »««<»«" -ome
»*rdo think, I .Tai hwSv fin^ .' *? ' ""'"' '""• »«!
And he is perhaps right /„5°i * ^'^^^ «*«"« for thee.
%«x: thouar'tsuohawoi*L°1tf °°* "^^ *^« ^""l^'
';-ion of when they sang ZTS^T, ^fT'T'^ ^^ ^"^ •
bght in the year, of my blindn^. a ^ ""**'"^ °' ^J"
bun?" ' ""none... ... And so thou lorest
•«ne'to"e « wtte.'^hf ^v' ^"*«' ,•"<» ^ ""d. i" th.
itj I wili talk with BeSo^' '* °°* **' I wiU think of
^ '^er':^ey«t?",?^t?th"* «r '-''-' '<" ^-^do
ttey looked at bi^ld Sll«" ^"^ T P'"°» ''J'«^«
oon^rted all unoerL^ Jt to^^"^ remembrance of F™ Luc.
to me before that I have whhfft! J°*"'8 ^^ "^^ "ome
.t possible that I ooulT Je t'^„*°' "*^°°«Jy ' I <Ud not think
happen to myself. " °""* ^^ anything that could
;4"o?Bomorf's'1elfS^^^^^^^ t^^" condensed
had thrown aU its pisijn bto/ "/k""" ^°'^« ^'^'>' ''Woh
•««d ambition, aged pride ^aiT^'J"^ "'^^ "^'^ ""^ws,
.(
i
tS8
ROMOLA.
hMrt met Uto't MitrMty at iu very flnt nttert^ee. Niver-
tobeob«.pyed. For we mu . not »ot in h«te, or Jo Mythin,
W.l» ^^'r'""''""^-"'' I ""V consider my«r.
Wrth^..^r^ ^ ■?"" »•''•'*''•>''« "member that Juevon,
2^f}^ "^ °Wig»tion.. And I would not be reproafhed by
myfenow-c,t.a,n,forr..h haste in bestowing my daughtj
B^lomm.0 Seal, gave his Ale.«u.dra to the Greek MaX
no e^^ ™ '"JT '^ '•" ■"""""' ">'» ^'^ "'""""' i» o
tiJ. r °n u""' ^*"'"'^» "•" •"»''» '•">* ^0 must take
»r V. « :'"'P'' '•?«»''»» me with wa"; of due fore-
thought. Be patient, my children : you are very -roung. »
«^fi.T"r^'* ^."/'^ ""* ^'"°'»''' ^""t "W perfectly
wbsaed. Not SOT to'.. If the subtle mixture of ^d «,d
evil prepares :suilenng for human truth and purity, ttere i.
^ ZT^" ^''T^- ^°' "" ''"'"g-doer b/the sLne min
?!t^r Z^"'"- -^^ ^"° ^'"^ ^°'"°'» °° """^ Parting that
Z^^Ii.f" ^'"^ 'v™"f ■" °' ^^ *»""" *^'" ""o^ed his whole
possible to l«„k of ..anything but the neoessaiy oonsequen<i
of her noble nature, loved hin, with aU the teudemei oZ
W H ^°v """?* '™''"" '™« ^"^ «"» fi"t deceit wh^ch
her. There was ^ spring o* bitterness mingling with that
nThtedlt^ZTd: ^°^^ "^'' "^'^ ^ ^'^^ «-* "'
CHAPTER XIII.
THB SHADOW OF KEUSSIS.
,n„~ T *^f '""^ »fte™oon time on the seventh of September,
Tito had confessed their love to each other.
TBS SHADOW 0» WWOWia
Inf •PlwwmUy carried with ita » "** *^' "'^^ *>•"•
Which Uy wi^ iu l^Tv,, 'c„^', " ""r7rt olmn, of y,„^
Plving . game .t ««« '^^ ^..*. ""' ". «' S«>dn,,
"ply of hi, left flag,,, Jt,
right with «.I.n,a.eyed iaterc
•nd bMdiog 0T« the '»rber, to
ha Mag,
"Qu»nf»bell., ,,in„, ,
Cb«.i fujgr .aUTla
Chi Tiiolew, r jiatoai
"i doman nan o'A o«r»«„«.
; «Kl w^,. . log th, ,j^^
««un»tic»l d awd* of hi»
■to 8i .ubed ipthelat^
the SI Mngi It^iujr ^jjj.
f he a.0 wu off hi»
* w^ my sieeta on
«<»ng to sleep in
F«!nt ^oesy. Hear
•1 by the initial
"ad symptoms : I
understanding i«
•p, and I shall be left
ike many another in-
What ih It, my Or-
.y^t J "f •""^ "•*«' - • bird
eye. in an matant, and he .tar .«i up
ttishotday, itseem^ m com,,.
letter, lUe a Trovatore? That is o.
«m eorely afraid that the good win. o,
•a empty cask with an odor of drei«.
curls, and drew them out playfuUy " Ww ^'T"^ ^""'»
of yourweU-tamed NeUo? ForF^rcil '"y"" ""»
that soft strain of yours lJ tr It * """'"K «°>""1 i--
ofyour desire, as the TbW LT "^ V^" """^ ''^^"'o eye
" That is m" Ss ir^f '"'^''' *''"' ^ """y ^^-^l i' "
Tit. stiH letting his ^^.^'^^SZ^XX
"■Beauteottsl.lifeinbloMomi
Afld It fleeteth -_ fleeteth ever ■
Wlow would fce joyful -let him I
"O^m's no surety for the morrow '•
- Carnival Song by Lnmm de' lltHeL
J
'4.'
k ■ ■
I !
ir
i(i I
I
M
i4»
BOHOLA.
ft. itriogi. « Bat you h,T. dlrined th« mm of mr rf^
tioMf taprtiMoe to M. you, .ye. ppw.. T^t youtol^
m. ^ .xtr, touch 0/ your «t-notTmy oh^ n^ ^t*^^
«>• lUn, and itir* th. mimU ipirito .mMblr n Ih.t «!S^
«.d . Ittl, of you, »o.t d.lJto or^ST^nt wotld nS'Si
*Mpi at hiB beck to slip through .mall h , 13 for hi™ v!!i
?o«fi::sr~Th "I"??' '"•* -/-^''-Vtk.x^rthyo:
SXto .w~^ru.rj:^-M'r zr tr^^^^^^
nounc«l you ).u of an «m than^oht^h ' ,^ ' ^ P""
rs^i-r-^^^^^i^rst^ry^
^o^ntine^^holars put together. ItmSf^.w"r vir?:.^
th.m to o^r m. up now, when Poliziano i. b.at.n do,^" iiSi
if 1? w °°* T*f*^°* y"" °'<^««'7 ^'>«>. if you will have
U soi but you don't expect u. clever ^Florentine, to Cpw!
ing the »me things over again every d^^ of our Hver «, J.
m^ do If we always told th. truth, ^e <S down I^^
•nd w. ory up Fr«.o.sco Cei, just for the «A.7f v^i^t^
THl 8HADOW OF NMJMIS.
And «w you not a MttTrn nf Ti. . "' " " '"'»'>« ^.Te b^a
your .". doubttw^ILn.! '^•■'° '!"'• "'"k-d city? ^
l«r. you from th, v" d'^S^ilTJ"'*""""' "■•' "»»"
to utoniah pcterity?" ' ^ **" «"" '"'k which ii
tnilr^i!';^;^':!;^" 't Win ""'-"^ "'on-h «
pUn of it » ^ irapoMibility of .wiog what wm the
WMoneof thoM scholar, who 1?, ^IV*^' «"''"«'* Bardo
i"g, like oavalicra iu Zry^i^ °7^'°'^ '" ""'' '««-
they Me OTer-ridd.ni^lir°JS,^^"''u*f *•"«''' "*««•»•
waa not a herb out of hiToi™ « !?^ ^""^ " '"'»• *<> mei
l-» on. with an emJ^ZT^'J^'"' '"'"•■'• ''•"•^-
expectation by long dSeoQiT^ ^P^ °°* "ith vain
Eeco. you a^ ^^^^7^, ""^ Cr "toforo i, th. y^
Iway. to be fed on leL^g 'h? I ITl ^"' '°^» ^ -"^
»««« for the betrotW tofo4 lL» ^^ '"'"' *" «•«"» "^e
"PerhaiM," «ud ^!: °^. ""S-" >' "ot true? »
.houldnex^rec^ii^Ba^ottlr"". ^"'"' B*™-^-
lion and a wUd boar to tK o/T7 '""V.""^'^ y°" »
n>y Alcti.. But I conftLT. ? ^' ^.~«» l^fore I can win
thy of Eomola, l^iT^Z^! 1?^' ^ '""'*^» "^ """o"
teg any mortal." """ ""^ 8"» dim by many-
i.to2r'toTarm1::li''^-,S?7^t place there. T,t
that wa, left empty r^oldm."*^ ^"" *°' t''* "i«he
-on^, wa, tenU ^e^^lrat'r'i.^^Sr-
the^-rb:Stt"a:tt\^rr^«^ ?r ^^ ~- ^-
diately atooped to pick nn thTf n ^ Perceptible, for he imme-
ger Wtteninr^ere^'SeKair"-"' hi, fin-
ome'^^itoTan-lcS?' ^ '''-^^t- ^" ^o— he i.
"Cronaciamyauthority.'.«udNello.withaahmg. «I
PI
143
ROMOLA.
i>
im t frequent that sanctuary, but he does. Ah, " he added,
taking the book from Tito's hands, "my poor NeLeia dTC-
berinol It jars yonr scholarly feelings to see the pages dog's-
eared. I was lulled to sleep by the weU-rhymed larms of
that rustic maiden-' prettier than the turnip-flower ' ' with a
oheek^more savory than cheese.' But to get such a weU-
scented no'>on of the contadina one must lie on yelvet cush-
ions in the Via Larga-not go to look at the Fierucoloni
sSn"''" ^"^ "*"" ''"°"''"' '^" "^""^K ^^
- «^°^£!*^ T^° "* *** Fierucoloni?" said Tito, indiffer-
ently, settling his cap.
"The contadine who come from the mountains of Pistoia,
and the Casentmo, and Heaven knows where, to keep th2
vigil m the church of the Nunziata, and seU their yarn and
dried mushrooms at the Fierucola, ' as we call it. They make
f^^r^'^"'"' ^'^ ^^^" P*P*' ^*°'«"«' ^°^^^S their hymns
^ !i 1"'^ °V^J^ "^V^ ''^' nativity-if you had the leisure
to see them No?-weU, I have had enough of it myself, for
there is wild work in the Piazza. One may happen to get a
stone or two about one's ears or shins without asking for it
and I was never fond of that pressing attention. Addio "
Tito carried a little uneasiness with him on his visit, which
ended ^her than he had expected, the boy-cardinal Giovanni
de Medici, youngest of red-hatted fathers, who has since
presented his broad dark cheek very conspicuously to posterity
pastime of the chase, and having failed to appear. It still
wanted half an hour of sunset as he left the door of the Seala
vt H '. Z A- u" '^'*°"°" °* proceeding forthwith to the
llf\ ^"-^'i ''"* }o ^'^ "ot gone far when, to his astonish-
ment, he saw Eomola advancing toward him along the Borgo
She wore a thick black veil aad black mantle, but it was
impossible to mistake her figure and her walk; and by her
Side wa^a short stout form, which he recognized as that of
Monna Bripda, ra spite of the unusual plainness of her attire.
Eomola had not been bred up to devotional observance, and
' The Little Fair.
THE SHADOW OP NEMESIS. 148
the oooasions on which she took the air ->7=— ,v
waLSni s're."'^« '''^^''"''^^" -^ ^■'O' *""-« to
J^he_did not answer at the first moment, and Monna Brigid.
hZt^' f T' ^'*°' ^°" ^° '^o" *° t»™ round, for we are in
Iwste. And is it not a misfortune?- we are owZ^ T
Si^. t'£rtr "^ ^^'^^^ ^^1 M^no ire!?
MO rair, lor the contadme eominir in block nn ti,<. „ u
s: fc^*^ '"'''^ -"""^ ^- '^■'^ usttrsrLt M
« Kmot^ h^Ilrd.^'.'*' •T""'*' '^'J '^Ban to beat violently.
MarS?^' ""'' "" "^"^ *"'"'' ""^yo" going to sL
eifS:^^^^-^:,----^^
allwasquiet. Bomola put aside her yeU for ttesailfTifh
eyes '' Jor thT/ fn '"1' '""^^^ ^^^at him wTth^i
my father It llf ^"* ^r *^°'°« ^'"^^^"g unknown to
144
ROHOLA.
I.-- V ,r
O
tekeu to the monastery at Fiesole, because he was Ul But
r^ d. tT"^ '""' y°" '"^ *^^ I >>a^e chosen riehtl7
Tito, because I have noticed that your nature is 1™^,^/^^^'
n^^j;^:£=hl7-L5::i^^^^^^^
S^""' Breates^e^en you, Tito, would find it wt
teiSList'srsLhrrs^^^^^
inth!:ki:7t^t'eu"SS:T^' ^°"- "^-ys right, except
Tif^'^r^vT ""'i^ '°°"' ^'""^•'"eM in those last words and
Tito looked very h^utiful as he uttered them, withZunusTd
pallor in his face, and a slight quiverinB of his li^ "" "™»"«1
SS*^/ f ,«"-«' 1« A like a^lid p Xs^rwIS
high beliefs, h^ a tearful brightness in her eyes^s she loled
at him touched with keen joy that he felt so stLgW what
I shaU be less noticed if we enter the pia^ alone."
THE SHADOW OP NEMB8I8.
„_ -""°- 148
we what there is under ZZiTtorlZl^' "^^ "'"' ^'«'» *^
W8 liie a prooeesion. Not that t finH r'^.f'" ^"^ °^ '^'J'"
onlj it doesn't suit my steL A f ^ '^*"'* '"'^ ^" for it,
not have us seen goin J to San m' ""J««<i. I ^ould rather
d««ed as if I were one of Z ^''°' '^^ *^*'''' ''^y I al
old as Sant' AnnaTforift fj ^°"' themselves, Ld m
who ought to be forSven wte's^" """^^^ ^"* ^' ^o,
having a grudge against deilXt^'^et.''''^ f' """ "^
they live, say I » P^opier— make them feel while
^^^P^llS'Z.^^^^SV'r? Brigida, and
"I understand, I obey you." now ta^l ' \'?'' "^^ ""^d,
-a sign of reverence «retya°dT S ^''"^lifti'^g his ca^
entmes, and which excited BernLl^^ x?" ^^ "**''« ^'or-
Tito as afawning GreekwhTl!Tp ''*',' ^'"''' '»'"«'»Pt for
it |ave him an ef ceptiotj ^l^e """^ ^'"' '""^-^ J""^.
BomXtoSSfmomtntttv 1!' ^" ''"P"""' '° «li°8 to
out suspicion. Por^He^e^ I v "^^ '""" ^"^^ ^i"' wrth^
would before all thml 7^1 . '^^ *»' "»'» brother
before all things cTfide to him wh°T' '^\'^' ^°"""« would
a»d her own after the yeL whicltul^ ^^^ father's position
change. She would tell hhn tta^shr *^* ''^"8''* «° '"""h
betrothed to a young schoC, who wLrjr ^."^ I'"^"'"^
vacant long ago by a wanderC son h« f "^ ' ^'^^ ^'^
tliat would prompt Eomola to dwellon t w""" '•■" ^P-^^*
would follow on the mentio^ oT Ir^ ^ PrP'"*" "^-i what
IVaLuca would tell all he k °ew an^l!*"'! ^"'•^'^'^ °ame.
no possible falsity by which h» ""f "°°J««tured, and Tito saw
consequences of i^tltt '12"°" "'^' °*^ *^« """t
with his prospects in F^r^nce Thi °°- ^* ^^ »" over
del Nero, who would be de ighjj'r T- ''''^' ^«""<^°
wiadom of his advice about deS 1 W^'V?'™*'^ *^«
character and position had been^f=w u . ?'^*' ""*'^ Tito's
fence; and thVhistory of tt vo^i'p '^ ^^ ^ ^o-^^ resi-
Wactorwas in slavery, wo^lfflhf ^^J ^r^nS-
146
ROUOLA.
gia. For the first time in his life he felt too fevered and agi-
teted to trust his power of self-command; he gave up his in-
tended visit to Bardo, and walked up and down under the
walls until the yellow light in the west had quite faded, when
without any distinct purpose, he took the first turning, which
happened to be the Via San Sebastiano, leading him directly
toward the Piazza dell' Annunziata.
He was at one of those lawless moments which eome to ua
aU if we have no guide but desire, and if the pathway where
desire leads us seems suddenly closed; he was ready to foUow
any beckoning that offered him an immediate purpose
CHAPTER XIV.
THB PEAS Aires' FAIB.
The moving crowd and the strange mixture of noises that
burst on him at the entrance of the piazza reminded Tito of
what Nello had said to him about the Fierucoloni, and he
pushed his way into the crowd with a sort of pleasure in the
hooting and elbowing, which filled the empty moments, and
dulled that calculation of the future which had so new a drea-
riness for him, as he foresaw himself wandering away solitary
in pursuit of some unknown fortune, that his thought had even
glanced toward going in search of Baldassarre after all.
At each of the opposite inlets he saw people struggling into
the piazza, while above them paper lanterns, held aloft on
sticks, were waving uncertainly to and fro. A rude monoto-
nous chant made a distinctly traceable strand of noise, across
which screams, whistles, gibing chants in piping boyish voices
the beatmg of drums, and the ringing of little bells, met each
other m confused din. Every now and then one of the dim
fioating lights disappeared with a smash from a stone launched
more or less vaguely in pursuit of mischief, followed by a
scream and renewed shouts. But on the outskirts of the
whirling „amult there were groups who were keeping this vigil
of the Nativity of the Virgin in a more methodical manner
wmM w
THB PEASANTS' FAIK. J«f
awn by fitful stone-throwing and Bibine r«rt.i «. j
ures on stilts, who KathedS™ 7 ""f ^-'ading fig-
-^^SaS-HHB^'^Sats
back firmly plaS'.Tini??''*^'^'"!'"' * ''""'. '^itt bis
the Founding Hospi^sllfi^vV''* '°S8'* '" f™"* »*
away-worn ancestry returnSgfromatiW '^ ^'°^''' ^^*
they had set out aTentur^ a^ Just M nTwf r J'^'^^
sc^t-feeding peasant-woS;n^ron.the ^0,^^70? RsS
who were entering with a vear's lalv^r ;« » ""i^ub oi ristoia,
yam on their backs, and i^ li tL^ Jt r*" ^°''' °'
good and that wide dim fear of harr^ „K ^ *^* ''°P« "*
be cared for bv the rL«?v ' ^^'"^ """^^ somehow to
lusacuaintance Bratti, who sto^tllt^^^S-
I' I
148
BOUOLA.
I
t
I' (
I
Ur, and his mouth punwd np in disdainful sUonoe^ eying eyeiy
one who approached him with a cold glance of superiority, and
keeping his hand fist on a serge covering which nonoealed the
contents of the basket slung before him. Eather surprised
at a deportment so unusual in an anxious trader, Tito went
nearer and saw two women go up to Bratti's basket with a look
of curiosity, whereupon the peUler drew the covering tighter,
and looked another way. It was quite too provoking, and one
of the women was fain to ask what there was in his basket.
" Before I answer that. Monna, I must know whether yoa
mean to buy. I can't show such wares as mine in this fair for
every fly to settle on and pay nothing. My goods are a little
too choice for that Besides, I've only two left, and I've no
mind to seU them; for with the chances of the pestUenoe that
wise men talk of, there is likelihood of their being worth their
weight in gold. TXo, m: andate con Dio."
The two women looked at each other.
"And what may be the price?" said the second.
"Not within what you are likely to have in your purse,
buona donna," said Bratti, in a compassionately supercilious
tone. "I recommend you to trust in Measer Domeneddio and
the saints : poor people can do no better for themselves."
"Not so poor I " said the second woman, indignantly, draw-
ing out her money-bag. " Come, now 1 what do you say to a
grosso? "
"I say you may get twenty-one quattrini for it, " said Bratti,
coolly J "but not of me, for I haven't got that small change."
"Come J two, then?" said the woman, getting exaaperated,
while her companion looked at her with some envy. " It will
iardly be above two^ I think."
After further bidding, and further meroantUe coquetry,
Bratti put on an air of concession.
Since you've set your mind on it, " he said, slowly raising
the cover, " I should be loath to do you a mischief; for Maes-
tro Gabbadeo used to say, when a woman sets her mind on a
thing and doesn't get it, she's in worse danger of the pesti-
lence than before. Ecco 1 I have but two left ; and let me tell
you, the fellow to them is on the finger of Maestro Gabbadeo,
who is gone to Bologna— as wise a doctor as aits at any door."
THE PBABANTB- PAia I49
The preoions objects were two olunuy iron rini™. hmtj^ in««
J^on of old Bonj« rings, such i'^™ ^^.tSfdiS
tjtred. The rust on them, and the entirely hidden charMter
of theiP potency, were so satisfactory, that the growiweM
god wathout grumbling, and the nm woman, dSj 5
^„n^*^? "'"".'; 'T^'^ "^^ "■""'' "'""'Of reluc-
tance 0° Bratb^part in driving a bargain with some of her
™? T'f f *•''' """*^'"« ^^8 ^ triumph. Bra^
probably obtained under the same sort of circumstances as the
Iw ,-5f' ^71°*.*""° ''''' P"^'' ""^o ""ddenly upon Tito,
who. If he had had time, would have chosen to avoid recogn?-
T,-f?i^ w^!?^ °^?*° Giovanni, now," said Bratti, drawing
Tito back to the pillar, " this is a piece of luck. For I ^^
tattmg of you this morning, Messer Greco; but» I said, he is
mounted up among the signori now-and I'm gL of it for I
was at the bottom of his fortune-but I can rafely get siZh
t f^Bufit':^ "* ^ ir ""«'* '^^« °° ""« Bton'es':*or2
e^pt^some small trifle to satisfy me for my trouble in the
"You speak in riddles, Bratti, " said Tito. « Eomember, I
fZ I '^''° ""^ ^'^ " y°" •*°' ''y -Iri^^B 5^ bargain, for
iron rings: you must be plain." «s s^w
thi™ ^ «^ «°lr '^*"8el8l it was an easy bargain I gave
tiT;. \ rT *•"' ""irty-two per cent, I hSpTa Chris-
I^o^mV " ^"i!."'"''- H 1 1"^ »ot borne a ^nscienc^
I^oiJd have go twice the money and twice the yarn. Bu^
totoig of rings. It 18 your ring-that very ring you've got on
ChT'".^*/''""'"* 8** y°» " purchaser for; ay,Cda
purchaser with a deep money-bag." ;•» »">n»
"Tr^y?" said Tito, looking at his ring and listening.
m,H«t.f T'^TT " ^^8 ""^"K^* ^''^y i"*^ Hungary, as I
n.rf° •,. ^^- "^'^'^ "^^ ^°°^^ -^ °^" ^y shop to see if
JcSliffh \*?'??'i ^'^"'*''°°^ ^- pric; of, I warrani
70^ he thought I had a pumpkin on my shoulders. He had
tow mmwapng aU the shops in Florence. And he had a
nag on-not like yours, but something of the same fashion-
#
ISO
SOHOLA.
Md a. he WM talkmg of ring^ I wdd I knew « fine Tonn.
mM, a particular acquaintance of mine, who had a ring of UuS
■ort. And he said, ' Who is he, pray? Tell him I'U nve
^l^ar"* ' "1 ^^ ^ *^°"«^' °' 80ing after you to
NeUo'a to-monow; for it's my opinion of you, Meseer Greco,
that you're not one who'd see the Amo ran broth, and rtand
by without dipping your finger. "
y.T^'^ '°'*u°° ""f? °' ^^^ ^""' ^ "id, yet his mind
7^ ^. ri^'^ '^^ ^^^ "^^"^ ^y »''°"W ^0 keep the
nng? It had been a mere sentiment, a mere fancy, that had
prevented him from eeUing it with the other gemsf if he had
that identification by Fra Luca. It was true that it had b^n
taken from Baldassarre's finger and put on hU own as soon as
his young hand had grown to the needful size: but there was
reaUy no valid good to anybody in those superstitious scruples
about inanimate objects. The ring had helped toward the rec-
edition of him. Tito had begun to dislike recognition, which
was a claim from the past. This foreigner's offer, if hi would I
really give a good price, was an opportunity for getting rid of
the rmg without the trouble of seeking a purcha^r.
^ You speak with your usual wisdom, Bratti," said Tito.
B,,t wl!"" f^T^"" ^ hear what your Genoese „m offer.
But when and where shaU I bava speech of him? "
"To-morrow, at three hours after sunrise, he will be at mv
Z?^ . l°Z'''*^ "" °' *'"'* "•'"Pness I have always tak-
Z^T • .'*' ^'"""' ^'•^' y°" '''^ -^^ ^^ '^ heavy pri^i
for he mmds not money. It's my belief he's buying for some-
^Itt\'S,^r'■f:^*«'"-P»'^''P«f-'»•°4eftsignor.''
^n^s well,'- said Tito. "Iwill be at your shop, if n^ing
^'L^tj°V^^^ ^"^r!^"^" ^^ "°"y ^y ""« *<» °ld acquaint-
ance sake, Messer Greco, so I will not stay to fix the smaU
sum you will give me in token of my service in the matter.
It seems to me a thousand years now till I get out of the piaz-
za, for a fair is a dull, not to say a wicked thing, when one
has no more goods to sell."
Tito made a hasty sign of assent and adieu, and moving
away from the pillar, again found himelf pushed toward Z
THB PBA8AST8' PAIR i^
middle of the piuza ana back again, without the power of
detomiwng hi. own oou«e. In this zigzag way he TJ ou-
ned alongto the end of the piazza opposite U-HCh wheJT
in a deep pece« formed by an irregularity in the lin^f housed
an enfrtamment wa. going forwLd which seen. S t^ J^ Z-
oW^attractive to the crowd. Lo„d buret, of laughter iX
ruptod a monologue which wa. .ometime. .low and oratorlll
at othen rattling and buffooni.h. Here a girl wm Siinii
purfi^forward into the inner circle with appafent rXtS^ce"
and there a loud-laughing minx wa. findij^^ a way wTthhei
to There I'^K '*"?'" ^'»''' '^»' "^ 'P'-^ " er Se
piazza. There were the pale stars breaking out above and th«
oept when they were seen close under the fitfully moving lighta •
heads of the encirclmg spectators stood in dark relief as Tito
K? a"m^l"« *" '"'"^. *'•""' "^^ »'»- them ro'e th^
J^e.u*p^Tt."""* *'"'** "''''' ^''"^ y"""- -balistio
"Behold, my children!" Tito heard him .aying, "behold
your opportunity! neglect not the holy sacrS^f mS
S^ T^° '^"'^^^ f°' the .mall .um of a wWte qua -
aTlT^ b^Tef r^'fr "^^ °^"'""'' '^^ <li..olve'd by
a .peoial buU beforehand at every man's uwn will anrf r,uJ
ure. Behold the BuUl" Here the sp^Z h^d up a te'
of parchment with huge seal, attached to it. « ^hoM tike
indulgence granted by his Holiness Alexander the SUth wht
being newly elected Pope for hi. peculiar piety L3 J^'
form and purify the Church, and^isely fi Z^MilZ
a^t pnesay abuse which keep, too larg^a .We of £ Sf
leged matrimony to the clergy and stints the laity. Sp t o"ol
my sons, and pay a white quattrinol This isThe who e ^d
eni'.r'/,*''^ indulgence. The quattrino is the oily d'ff«^
^^^Belevgy-who spit and pay nothing. "
Tito thought he knew the voice, which had a peculiarly
S Sdf *V 'rr"" "" """"'' - shadow'f'S
net aif."^'^ ^^' v™ '° *>* »"« °^ ^^^ f^^tures. Stepping a^
near as he could, he saw within the ci^le behind the speidc«
113
ROMOUL
H.
•n altar-lik* tebU niMd on a amaU pUtfonn, and oorend
with a red drapeiy stitohed aU over with yellow oabaliitioal
ngurea. Hall a dozaa thin Upers horned at the back of thia
table, which had a conjuring apparatus aoattered over it, a
large open book in the centre, and at one of the front anglee
a monkey ftitened by a cord to a amaU ring and holding a
amall Uper, which in hit incessant fidgety movemenU fell
more or leaa aalant, whilst an Impish boy in a white aurpliee
^upied himaelf chiefly in cuffing the monkey, and adjuating
the teper. The man in the mitre also wore a surplice, and
over It a ohaauble on which the signs of the zodiac were rude-
ly marked m black upon a yellow ground. Tito was aure now
that he recognized the aharp upward-tending angles of the face
under the mitre: it waa that of Maestro Vaiano, the mounte-
bank, from whom he had rescued Tessa. Pretty little Tessa t
Perhaps she too had come in among the troops of oontadine.
" Come, my maidens 1 This ia the time for the pretty who
can have many chanoea, and for the ill-favored who have few.
Matrimony to be had— hot, eaten, and done with as eaaily aa
berhngoMn I And aee I " here the conjurer held up a cluster of
tiny bags. " To every bride I give a Bm» with a secret in it
—the secret alone worth the money you pay for the matrimo-
ny. The secret how to-no, no, I wUl not tell you what the
secret la about, and that makes it a double secret. Hang it
round your neck if you like, and never look at it; I don't aay
tha wiU not be the besl^ for then you will aee many thinga
you don't expect: though if yoa open it you may break your
leg, I vero, but you wiU know a secret I Something nobody
knows but me 1 And mark— I give yon the Breve, I don't seU
It, as many another holy man would: the quattriuo ia for the
matrimony, and the Breee you get for nothing. Orth, giova-
netti, come like dutiful sons of the Church and buy the Indul-
gence of his Holiness Alexander the Sixth."
ThU buffoonery just fitted the taste of the audience; the
fierwsola was but a small occasion, so the townsmen might be
contented with jokes that were rather leaa indecent than those
they were accustomed to hear at every carnival, put into easy
rhyme by the Magnifico and his poetic sateUites; while the
women, over and above any reUsh of the fun, really began to
M^.'^^it:^^
■%■.■%
THI PBAflAMTS- FAn». ,„
W> wd grimacM oy« thf I:i^L!i fP^J"""'' "olemn gibber-
of a luitern." ^ "■" '"'^ I*"" ''« ""der the light
Je"*' '^J^C' "^ •°°' ^ "-""-""d your piou. obwrr-
wiU. hi. monk^ ^* " ui,ple.«u,t ori.i, had ari«a
-iKon oauMd him to leap back with ^^il. » '"""""'•'l Po-
much for the slackened wLkVv™~ *" P™^*'* »•»
His first leap WM to th« nfl^ ^'"^ ^ '°"^ """ '"te-ed.
poaition hSZs^raSL te ™ To'tl? *"' V""" -^'<'''
in the sarplioe took upTtlTJl '^"j""""* that the imp
whereup^the ronkeyWdon to a.« r;^"/"'^''"'*^"'^
in the foreground, droppinTL tal^ bv?.? °' ' ^^r"""-
teriug with incriaed emph«T8ftm a«/ ''^' "^^ ''^''"
wa. the screaming and oon?S /"oT a^ew o'^^hZec^r
having a vague dread of the Maitro'a mnl 8Pe<'««ton.
more hidden mischief thaiTm™ teeth .L"^'^' " "»?»''''' »'
and the conjurer himself w«^„ , "'""' ""'^'^ ^i^'i
should hapjin to CllZ" riTfflit -"^ "^
monkey's strinij, Tito uot nnf^V tiT ■, "™* "^ «*"« <*•
contend for hfs ^lace ala n he .1 Tu' '^^' °'" """'"S *»
ally pushed towKTuioltrir *°.*". «""^"-
amongst the worshippers. ^"naata, and to enter
The brilliant illumination within seempH f„
kis eyes with palpable force aft«rTh!^T t" Press upon
broad shadows o/tie S^itr'S fi'f"'" "«'"' "•*
he could see nothing dSSy^^iX'sZt ^as^l^
104
BOMOU.
OmU tomathing inp^niaturtl and hMrraly to mtay of the
pMtant won-ti, for whom half the ikj wu hidden by moun-
Mni, and who went to bed in the twilight; and the unloter-
ropted chant from the choir wai repoie to the ear after the
helliih hubbub of the crowd outiide. Gradually the aoane be-
came clearer, though etUl there wai a thin yellow haze from
inoenie mingling with the breath of the multitude. In a
ehapel on the left hand of the nave, wreathed with aUver
lampn, waa men unveiled the miraculoua freico of the Annun-
ciation, which, in Tito'e oblique view of it from the right-hand
side of the nave, seemed dark with the fxoesi of light around
it. The whole area of the great church wai filled with peaiant
women, iome kneeling, some standing; the coarse bronzed
skins, and the dingy clothing of the rougher dwellers on the
mountains, contrasting with the softer-lined faces and white
or red head-drapery of the well-to-do dwellers in the vaUey,
who were scattered in irregular groups. And spreading high
and far over the walls and oeilingthere was another multitude,
also pressing close against each other, that they might be
nearer the potent Virgin. It was the crowd of votive waxen
images, the effigies of great personages, clothed in their habit
as they lived: Florentines of high name, in their black silk
luooo, as whun they sat; iu oouncU; popes, emperors, kings,
eardjnals, and famous oondottieri with plumed morion seated
on their chargers; all notable strangers who passed through
Florence or had aught to do with its affairs— Mohammedans,
even, in well-tolerated companionship with Christian cava-
liers; some of them with faces blackened and robes tattered
by the corroding breath of centuries, others fresh and bright
in new red mantle or steel corselet, the exact doubles of the
living. And wedged in with all these were detlched arms,
legs, and other members, with only here and there a gap
where some image had been removed for public disgrace, or
had faUen ominously, as Lorenzo's had done sU months be-
fore. It was a perfect resurrection-swarm of remote mortals
imd fragments of mortals, reflecting, in their v ,■ ng degrees
of freshness, the sombre dinginess and sprinkled orightness of
the crowd below.
Tito's glance wandered over the wild multitude in search of
TM PIABAHTB* FAIR m
nnd.r on. of them. iTt,. « W ^f >. ^^^' ''•*~' ''" '"«
group of peasant womm »),n^ •8«m»t the wall, behind a
.pot^n^ire^to th. r^' ilte^'^Hnf ■"/ -^ l<»Wng for a
with a look of wearinegTi^dT, w ^ ^""^ * ""'• "'^e
•b^ntly toward^" ^fj'"i'"'"'r'''™'*"'^'«'l '»">«
.tood in hi, ~l^w' Kr/fli'''^; '^"'"^8" Michael
b.ardedandton.uAr i^tr^Hrri^hth'^f » !"?"' """"S"'
of coooons, fell by her eide H.til!!. * . t"*^' ^"''dii'g a bunch
piUed, either by the light Ir Lv th^l "^"^ ^" """'' "'"»'' ""
P«Med m herSde: Lr iS^ -JT"""!; """ """ "-
gethe, and every uowlnS'^enV ^elWf f^ft^ '"-
• large image of a arveet sleepy child Titofcff . • '"
ble deaire to go up to her anrf «lf K .^ '" *° "reeisti-
oould condemn him whoee Kt^- • -"^ Judgment that
world apart where'he ^ "iltlfer''T ""^ """'''•
•nd exacting demand, w freedom from auspioions
She Beem^d ! «,Cf^m^. V^. '"r**"" '" ^ ""w.
oome with dUi^r h? l?" t^tened isolation that would
Mmself thafCa ^j'T^nr^'' IT'' *° "-"
quietly to her side, kneelS on one w'^** .""'°' '"PP^?
est Toioe, " Tessal » ' ""^ *""*' '" "^s «>«-
166
BOItOU.
She seemed to be ooUecting her thoughts for a minute or
two, and at last she said,—
"I'm very hungry."
"Cnr.t. '.iie^; come with me."
H. iJted her u,-i her knees, and led her out under the
oloisf rs jurromidi .j; the atrium, which were then open, and
not y »; MloTU'^u. w.th the frescoes of Andrea del Sarta
.< ?v '',!!? i* ^'"* *™ ^ ^y yourself, and so hungry, Tessa? "
lie Madre is ill; she has vety bad pains in her legs, and
sent me to bring these cocoons to the Santissima Nunziata.
because they're so wonderful; seel "-she held up the bunch
Of cocoons, which were arranged with fortuitous regularity on
a stem,-" and she had kept them to bring them herself, but
She couldn t, and so she sent me because she thinks the Holy
Madonna may take away her pains; and somebody took my
bag with the bread and chestnuts in it, and the people pushed
me back, and I was so frightened coming in the crowd, and I
couldn t get anywhere near the Holy Madonna, to give the
cocoons to the Padre, but I must— oh, I must."
"Yes, my little Tessa, you shall take them; but first come
and let me give you some berlingozzi. There are some to be
had not far off. "
"Where did you come from?" said Tessa, a littie bewil-
dered. I thought you would never come to me again, be-
cause you never came to the Mercato for milk any more I
set myself Aves to say, to see if they would bring you back,
but I left off, because they didn't."
"You see I come when you want some one to take care of
you, Tessa. Perhaps the Aves fetehed me, only it took them
a long while. But what shall you do if you are here all alone?
Where shall you go? "
" Oh, I shall stay and sleep in the church— a great manv of
them do-m the church and all about here— I did once when
I came with my mother; and tixepatrigno is coming with the
mules in the morning."
They were out in the piazza now, where the crowd was
rather less riotous than before, and the lights were fewer, the
stream of pilgrims having ceased. Tessa clung fast to Tito's
arm in satisfied silence, whUe he led her toward the stall
THK PBASANTS- FAIH. 1^7
middle of the pi«.^za,llrthe m^wf^T '"'^ '"'^"'^ *^«
found space to execute a d«n.! ^. ^*"'"' °° "'^'^ !««»
as if tte sightsTfhe t»t "'' *«''"'' ''"* ^°°^<^ «"««1
he, now shet^ s"af?:nK:rar' ''"'°"* "*^-'^- *°
think Saint Chn^'stophe^hC^rr'"''^ «^'--. "D° ^ou
" Because Saint Christopher is so verv tall . .^ j i. •
Tito w;« ''^'"/°" *''"'y« •« '' '""g ''hile firstT"
'I
*
us
BOHOLA.
Is I
19' :t
•i
adoring him and nestling against him. The absence of pre-
sumptuous self-conceit in Tito made him feel all the more de-
fenceless under prospective obloquy : he needed soft looks and
caresses too much ever to be impudent.
" In the Mercato? " said Tessa. " Not to-morrow morning,
because the patrigno will be there, and he is so cross. Oh I
but you have money, and he will not be cross if you buy some
salad. And there are some chestnuts. Do you like chest-
nuts?"
He said nothing, but continued to look down at her with a
dreamy gentleness, and Tessa felt herself in a state of deli-
cious wonder; everything seemed as new as if she were being
carried on a chariot of clouds.
" Holy Virgin ! " she exclaimed again presently. " There is
a holy father like the Bishop I saw at Prato."
Tito looked up too, and saw that he had unconsciously ad-
vanced to within a few yards of the conjurer, Maestro Yaiano,
who for the moment was forsaken by the crowd. His face
was turned away from them, and he was occupied with the ap-
paratus on his altar or table, preparing a new diversion by the
time the interest in the dancing should be exhausted. The
monkey was imprisoned under the red cloth, out of reach of
mischief, and the youngster in the white surplice was holding
a sort of dish or salver, from which his master was taking
some ingredient. The altar-like table, with its gorgeous cloth,
the row of tapers, the sham episcopal costume, the surpliced
attendant, and even the movements of the mitred figure, as he
alternately bent his head and then raised something before the
lights, were a suflBciently near parody of sacred things to rouse
poor little Tessa's veneration ; and there was some additional
awe produced by the mystery of their apparition in this spot,
for when she bad seen an altar in the street before, it had
been on Corpus Christi Day, and there had been a procession
to account for it. She crossed herself and looked up at Tito,
but then, as if she bad had time for reflection, said, " It is
because of the Nativity. "
^ Meanwhile Yaiano had turned round, raising his hands to
his mitre with the intention tf changing his dress, when hia
quick eye recognized Tito and Tessa, who were both looking
THE PEASANTS' PAIR. 169
^h^ti!^"" *•"*' ^'"^ *°°'' "P°° ^ *•"« ligJ^' °f Ws tapers,
while his own was in shadow. "'i-^n,
l,»nf *' ""y •'^^«"'" he said, instantly, stretching out hi.
hands in a benedictory attitude, "you are come to bemarri^
Lr Ze rz.^T'^'^^ "'^''^'^ "' «°^y <^^-^ -
ing of Tessa's attitude and expression, and he discemedTn
opportunity for a new kind of joke which req^red hlmto ^
cautions and solemn.
sofH?t!ff ^°" ^-^^ ^ ^ """"^ *° "■"' T«ssa? " said Tito,
softly, half enjoying the comedy, as he saw the pretty childish
wwHT °°/*\*-'=«' ^'^ P«>-Pted byh^ prevUtoS
which belonged to the intoxication of despair
ti^^d^Jf " WmtouleT.":^^^ '^^ '■""^^'^ "^ ■''* ^^ -^ »'<^
He answered only by a smile, and by leading her forward
infrontof thecerre^^no, who, seeing an excellent jest k tTs
mty, and went through the mimic ceremony with a liberal ex-
penditure of Unguafuriesca or thieves' Latin But some
l!?lf ^^ ^u''°^"""°'"^'^'^'«'"'«« '•'«'" ^ith hands out-
sb-etched in a benedictory attitude over their kneeling figures
Tito disposed always to cultivate good-will, though it mighi
be the least select, put a piece of four grossi i^to hifhand^ he
fTlr'^' '^'^7" "^^""'^ ''^ '^^°°'' ^^^•'^ tl'e eonjW
But iChiLTlf " P"^«''*r<»«-*-°d-« of thewhole affair.
But Tito himself was yeiyfar from that understanding, and
tell Tessa of the joke and laugh at her for a little goose or
come of It-see what she would say and do next.
after ?C/r7'",r.* «°. *'^y ^™"' "•« "8=^," "aid Tessa.
wWo ^ r ,T^?^ ^ **' "**?«' " ''"'i you will take me to
where you live." She spoke meditatively, and not in a que^
to Z*M T ?."* ^r '°"y '^^ '^^^' " I '"»»' 80 backbone,
to aie Madre, hough to tell her I brought the cocoons, ml
that I am married, and shaU not go back again."
11
I«
ROHOLA.
Tito felt the necessity of speaking now; and in the rapid
thought prompted by that necessity, he saw that by undeceiv-
ing Tessa he should be robbing himself of some at least of
a>at pretty trustfulness which might, by and by, be his only
haven from contempt. It would spoU Tessa to make her the
least particle wiser or more suspicious.
"Yes, my little Tessa," he said, caressingly, "you must go
back to the Madre; but you must not tell her you are married
—you must keep that a secret from everybody; else some very
great harm would happen to me, and you would never see me
again."
She looked up at him with fear in her face.
" You must go back and feed your goats and mules, and do
just as you have always done : "ore, and say no word to any
one about me." ^
The comers of her mouth fell a little.
"And then, perhaps, I shall come and take care of you
again when you want me, as I did before. But you must do
just what I tell you, else you will not see me again."
"Yes, I will, I will," she said, in a loud whisper, frightened
at that blank prospect.
They were silent a little whUe; and then Tessa, looking at
her hand, said,— "
" The Madre wears a betrothal ring. She went to church
and had it put on, and then after that, another day, she was
married. And so did the cousin Nannina. But then the
mMried Gollo," added the poor little thing, entangled in the
diftoult comparison between her own case and others within
her experience.
" But you must not wear a betrothal ring, my Tessa, because
no one must know you are married," said Tito, feeling some
msistence necessary. " And the buona foHuna that I gave you
did just as well for betrothal. Some people are betrothed with
rings, and some are not."
_ "Yes, it is true, they would see the ring," said Tessa, try-
mg to convince herself that a thing she would like very much
was really not good for her.
They were now near the entrance of the church again, and
she remembered her cocoons which were still in Tito's hand
THB PEASANTS' FAIB. m
"Ah, you must give me the boto," she said: "and we m„.f
7«,« ^°" "".f * »° '°' '^««»» i but I will not go in I mu«t
n,/n^S^°°* "-T* ^"^"^ ^^' -"here do you goi>» Tessa's
I shall come back some time, Tessa " 8ai<1 T,+„ *»..• v
under the cloisters to the door of the churcT ^- V™? ^'l
IKr""*^*" t'P' '^"^ y°" t-S'said^lrbear
And here .s money to buy your breakfast. Kow kbs me TnH
look happy, else I bhaU not come again " ' ^^
dered where Eomola was now, and what she wm AiX- ,
for him, and he must feef the cma^^d tt bl"e fnlt"!
himself. Such a moment had come to Tito Th«r» ^
11
r
IS'
1«2
XiOUOLA,
I !
Jii
CHAPTER XV.
IBB DTINO KEgSAOI.
Whin Bomola arrived at the entrance of San Maroo aha
found one of the Frati waiting there in aipeotation of her
arrival. Monna Brigida retired into the adjoining church, and
Eomola was conducted to the door of the chapter-house in the
outer cloister, whither the invalid had been conveyed; no
woman being allowed admission beyond this precinct.
When the door opened, the subdued external light blending
with that of two tapers placed behind a truckle-bed showed
the emaciated face of Fra Luca, with the tonsured crown of
golden hair above it, and with deep-sunken hazel eyes fixed
on a smaU crucifix which he held before him. He was propped
up into nearly a sitting posture; and Bomola was just con-
scious, as she threw aside her veil, that there was another
monk standing by the bed, with the black cowl drawn over Ma
head, and that he moved toward the door as she entered; just
conscious that in the background there was a crucified form
rising high and pale on the frescoed wall, and pale 'aces of
sorrow looking out from it below.
The next moment her eyes met Fra Luca's as they looked
up at her from the cruoifii-, and she was absorbed in that pang
of recognition which identified this monkish emaciated form
with the image of her fair young brother.
"Dinol " she said, in a voice like a low cry of pain. But
she did not bend toward him; she held herself erect, and
paused at two yards' distance from him. There was an un-
conquerable repulsion for her in that monkish aspect; it
seemed to her the brand of the dastardly undutifulness which
had left her father desolate— of the grovelling superstition
which could give such undutifulness the name of piety. Her
father, whose proud sinp«rity and simplicity of life had made
him one of the few frank pagans of his time, had brought her
up with a silent ignoring of any claims the Church could have
to regulate the beUef and action of beings with a, cultivated
»5P^^w ip^v
THE DTDIO MBSSAGE. 163
rf^« J''"/'"';^''' i° ''" °''"^' ^l°»8«d to that actual life
of the mued multitude from which they had always lived
aparti and she had no ideas that could renZ her brother's
contempt. Yet the lovingness of Komola's soul had clun^ to
that .mage in the pa,t, and while she stood rigidly aLt°he«
monk' '^He'Cr cor^sponding emotion in the face of the
falTwo™ ? ^ "* *^*' "*"' "^t^' "t^od to him in her
' Mv T/^ ^"k"*^ 'f ""^ ^"-"^ S""" °f » "-iBiti^ spirit
My sisterl he said, with a feeble and interrunted but v.f
to utterance, " it is well thou hast not l^r deit/to
oom^^for I have a message to deUver to thee, Z my S t
Eomola took a step nearer : the message, she thought would
be one of affectionate penitence to, her faker! ^dhe; he^rt
began to open. Nothing could wipe out the long years of
deserbon; but the culprit, looking back on tho^e yefrs ^ith
Sr°Now '™hi'"'/%r"«*'°'^^"«'^ wouid'::?i%:S
W« ' t^ ^^*^ *^*™ """^^ ^ understanding and
h? wIT- v"'"" T"'^'* P°" °"* ■»«« "»tural filial fefw
ra.iX-^."'^ '^""''^°°'' *•»"' ^" f""-*^" blinTess-how
X?what th"«T/"' ''°" .""' ^°°« '^"'^ •I'^y^ J-d ^
k.7>L ^t i^^ '" """^ ^ *^« ''""« "^bere he himself
^ ^'^.T™''"^!-'"'^ ^''^ ^'^' '"«»'«« from tte S
hps would be one of tenderness and regret ^^
^e it h,. ^ , "^ '"'"^ '* '° *^« l''^* *'» "'O'^tbs: each
tune It has been clearer. Therefore I came from Fie^la
deemmg It a message from Heaven that I was bound to dS
ittsfSrdrt:!!^r^""'-^*^'' «-*-^^-^
woi^rsrShiti^r"^^ ^'^--^^^ "»
Eomola had felt her heart chiUing again. It was « vision
m
hB>.%^.^XimSM^^ll^^k^m^
m
164
ROHOLA.
Dino, - thought you had gome words to send to my father.
You foraook him when hia alght was failing; you made his life
very deflate Have you never oared about that? never re-
peLied? What is this religion of yours, that places visions
before natural duties?"
The deep-sunken hazel eyes turned slowly toward her and
rested upon her in silence for some moments, as if he were
m. diUti,,g whether he should answer her.
" Xo, " he said at last : speaking as before, in a low passion-
iess tone, as of some spirit not human, speaking through dyinit
human organs. " No ; I have never repented fleeing from the
stiflmg poison-breath of sin that was hot and thick around me
and threatened to steal over my senses like besotting wine.
My father could not hear the voice that called me night and
day; he knew nothing of the demon tempters that tried to
drag me back from following it. My father has lived amidst
liuman sin and misery without believing in tbem : he has been
Jike one busy picking shining stones in a mine, while there
was a world dying of plague above him. I spoke, but he lis-
tened with scorn. I told him the studies he wished me to live
for were either childish trifling-dead toys-or else they must
be made warm and living by pulses that beat to worldly ambi-
tions and fleshly lusts, for worldly ambitions and fleshly lusts
made all the substance of the poetry and history he wanted
me t' bend my eyes on continually."
"iiaa not my father led a pure and noble life, then?"
Bomola burst forth, unable to hear in silence this implied accu-
sation against her father. " He has sought no worldly hon-
ors ; he has been truthful ; he has denied himself all luxuries •
he has lived like one of the ancient sages. He never wished
you to live for worldly ambitions and fleshly lusts; he wished
you to live as he himself has done, according to the purest
maxims of philosophy, in which he brought you up."
Bomola spoke partly by rote, as all ardent and sympathetic
young creatures do; but she spoke with intense belief The
pmk flush was in her face, and she quivered from head to
foot. Her brother was again slow to answer; looking at her
passionate face with strange passionless eyes.
" What were the maxims of philosophy to me? They told
m ,— '-^"^
•^i IT. ■i."?=-.
THE DTINQ MI88AOE.
165
me to be rtrong, when I felt myaelf weak; whui I waa ready
hke the bleased Saint Benedict, to roll mi^elt^^^S:
^ Ihfd 1 K •" ">•! .like a aeed that wants room to
T^r; ►^ j^° ?"'"«''* "P '" careleasness of the true faith :
I had not studied the doctrines of our religion ; but it sS
waf i'lroTn'r^'r? """■ " r°« '°°"^ I felt t^TeS
tTL . ?/u P^'°* ''"'* '"'^ ^""'y f°' tl'e soul; in which
there would be no uneasy hunger after pleasure, no tonnentkg
ttetH' "rl"^ °f "Offering. Before I knew the hS o<
.^„ tTv,' K ^""^ " fo'e'tadowing of their eostisy. For thi
same truth had penetrated even into pagan phUosophy^that
at, s a bhss within the reach of man t^, die to moffieedl
and hve in the life of God as the Unseen PerfectnesV^ B^
with my fellow-terngs only as human souls related to the
ete^^ unseen life. That need was urging me continluy
LTX ""' ? ''"'""' ''"'° "^y ""'"d fell away wea^
from the yam words which record the passions of dead ^
It came oyer me after I had been tempted into sin and Trd
tarned away with loathing from the scent of the emptied cup
And m visions I saw the meaning of the Crucifix "
He paused, breathing hard for a minute or two: but Eomola
Z^lir^"^ ^ 'peak again, u ,as useless for herS
to attempt any contact with the mind of this unearthly brother •
he Zr "^ .^°\^^'"^'l ^ '^ »"d grasp a shadow^ Wh«
he spoke again, his heaving chest was quieter.
servLf i* ^J'T ^^""^ *°"°'' = ''"' ^ ""'' *•>«' "■'en among the
ZlTj ,' Cross who professed to have renounced%he
world, my soul would be stifled with the fumes of hypocrisy,
and lust, and pride. God had not chosen me, as hrchos;
Church and in the world. He called upon me to flee: I took
fte, acred vows, and I fled-fled to lands where danger and
jcorn and want bore me continually, like angels, to re^e on
the bosom of God. I have lived the life of a hermit, I have
ministered to pilgrims, but my task has been short rtheven
1**'^ JS. Of
IM
ROHOLA.
rn!
11
iiii
hM worn yerj thin that diyidu m« from my erarUf tins rMt
I ovne bMk to Florence that "
" Dino, you did want to know if my father waa alive," in-
terrupted Romola, the picture of that auffering life touohinu
her again with the desire for union and forgiveness.
" '^''•* ^^°'o I died I might urge others of our breth-
ren to study the Eastern tongues, as I had not done, and go
out to greater ends than I did ; and I find them already bent oa
Uie work And since I came, Romola, I have felt that I waa
wnt partly to thee-not to renew the bonds of earthly affec-
tion but to deliver the heavenly warning conveyed in a vision.
JTor I have had that vision thrice. And through all the year*
■inoe first the Divine voice called me, while I waa yet in the
• ;', ,. r* **"* '*"8'" '""'* 8"'ded by visions. For in the
painful linking together of our waking thoughts we can never
be sure that we have not mingled our own error with the light
we have prayed for; bnt in visions and dreams we are passive,
and our souls are as an instrument in the Divine hand. There-
fore listen, and speak not again— for the time is short."
Bomola s mind recoiled strongly from listening to thU yi-
S,°°V ,^«/,!°f 'Bnation had subsided, but it was only because
fhe had felt the distance between her brother and herself
widenmg. But whUe Fra Luca was speaking, the figure of
wotiier monk had entered, and again stood on the other side
ol the bed, with the cowl drawn over his head.
"Kneel, my daughter, for the Angel of Death is present,
and waits while the message of Heaven is delivered: bend
thy pride before it is bent for thee by a yoke of iron,"
said a strong, rich voice, starUingly in contrast with Ra
ijuca s.
The tone was not that of imperious command, but of quiet
self-possession and assurance of the right, blended with be-
nignity. Eomola, vibrating to the sound, looked round at the
figure on the opposite side of the bed. His face was hardly
discernible under the shadow of the cowl, aiid her eyes fell at
once on his hands, which were folded across his breast and lav
in re lef on the edge of his black mantle. They had a marked
physiognomy which enforced the influence of the voice: they
were very beautiful and almost of transparent delicacy Bom-
THE DTIWQ mSBAOK. tfj
.upport. But the face wJud^e^^ti tt^ll T ' ^^} »'
have an apDeal in th.™ !™" . ,', f^ *"* ''"'^» ieemed to
ni«.t tte ShL t "kT.° '^l^'^'"- Tbe next mo-
aponge which lav n«.r Tn J . . .'"^ '"' ^'P" ''*''' » "«»
P^hfd back, a^d ttTieaLa of*^?' "^I'T' ."" """^^ '""
of the tapers on th«^ Th« ° '"''' ^^ *'"' '"" "gJ"
ajlend^^en^:^^^^^^^
£5S'janSo:;r£:^,r^^-^
and passion: there w«r<i ♦»,« ui •""'g «j wu oi energy
under aaburLeyeLir si* ■ "T^^ T'' '^'"'"S "'"'«y
acute .en.i^enr.RomnnT' '^"•'^'' ''"°''"' *" *«" °'
-nTs;t;itr '''"^''' "■' -^ --d'^^an^'or^
He was looking at her with mild fixedness whil« ^
If
IM
ROMO.
and it wu » blank to ma, eren m « painting sffaoedi and I
law him mora and taka thaa, Romola, by the hand; and than
I law thaa taka my father by the hand; and you all thiaa
want down the atone itepi into the straeta, the man whoaa faoa
WM a blank to me leading the way. And yon itocd at tha
altar in Santa Croce, and the priest who married yoa had tha
face of death; and the graves opened, and tha dead in their
shrouds rose and followed you like a bridal train. And yon
passed on through the streeta and the gates into the ralley,
and it seemed to me that he who led you hurried you mora
than you could bear, and the dead were weary of following
you, and turned back to their graves. And at last you came
to a stony place where there was no water, and no trees or
herbage ; but instead of water, I saw written parchment unroll-
ing itself everywhere, and instead of trees and herbage I saw
men of bronze and marble springing up and crowding round
you. And my father was faint for want of water, and fell to
the ground; and the man whose face was a blank loosed thy
hand and departed: and as he went I could see his faoa; and
it was the face of the Great Tempter. And thou, Bomola,
didst wring thy hands and seek for water, and there was none.
And the bronze and ji.uble figures seemed to mock thee and
hold out cups of water, and when thou didst graap them and
put them to my father's lips, they turned to parchment. And
the bronze and marble figures seemed to turn into demons and
snatch my father's body from thee, and the parchments shriv-
elled up, and blood ran everywhere instead of them, and fire
upon the blood, till they all vanished, and the plain was bare
and stony again, and thou wast alone in the midst of it. And
then it seemed that the night fell, and I saw no more. . . .
Thrice I have had that v>.ion, Bomola. I believe it is a
revelation meant for thee ; to warn thee against marriage as a
temptation of the enemy; it calls upon thee to dedicate thy-
self "
His pauses had gradually become longer and morefrequeni^
and he was now compelled to cease by a severe fit of gasping,
in which his eyes were turned on the crucifix as on a light that
was vanishing. Presently he found strength to speak again,
but in a feebler, scarcely audible tone:
THl DTIMO JUSSAQE. 109
th." hilSJ^T"? ^* :•*» P»'"<*>Pl'y wd oorropt thoughta of
wiuturn to mookerjf, and the unolMn gods will "
Tm wordi died away.
b»T that thii Titian wai do more than a dream fed yZ w,!!tK
olTeTH """;*" '^"''*"^'' • •'--T'.l^hfd' i
over her. Her mind waa not apt to be aasailed bv airklv J^
0...; ahe had the vivid intelleo?aad thH^iiXSj!:
.K.U which are too keenly alive to the oon.tant reS f^i
tt. linage of the vi.ioi, .he deapiwd jarred and dittrwaed her
StoSl'^lri."'"^"''': Anditwa.thefir,ttoT.hth^
wrtneaaed the.truggle with approaching death: her young 1^
W been sombre, but she had known nothing of theTtJ^t
lui tT'l *^ '"'^"' '"°'"' ""»«"' and to make on. cZ^y
with the pale face on the bed. i^'mpany
"Frate," said the dying voio*.
«J™lr """•" '""^ ^"* '"' •^•' -0^ <-• for
"Bomola," it said next
She leaned forward too : but again there wa. rilenoe The
words were struggling in vain. M«n«). la,
" Fra Oirolamo, give her "
"The crucifix," said the voice of Fra Girolamo.
No other sound came from the dying lips
Dinol " said Bomola, with a low but piercing cry as fhe
crd-^Tverjbren'" """ ''' '''-- »' ^is^^l^Z^
.^tfr'""JSis':^tt^rt!^f--o. after
apS^r„t:JretroThtr^rgr:^rr
K^^dXtrur'^ Wh^bythesideVhTdlS
170
ROMOLA.
It seemed to her as if this first vision of death must alter
the daylight for her for evennore.
Fra Girolamo moved toward the door, and oaUed in a lay-
brother who was waiting outside. Then he went up to Eomo-
la and said in a tone of gentle command: "Bise, my daugh-
ter, and be comforted. Our brother is with the blessed. He
has left you the crucifix, in remembrance of the heavenly
warning— that it may be a beacon to you in the darkness."
She rose from her knees, trembling, folded her veil over her
head, and hid the crucifix under her mantle. Era Girolamo
then led the way out into the cloistered court, lit now only by
the stars and by a lantern which was held by some one near
the entrance. Several other figures in the dress of the digni-
fied laity were grouped about the same spot. They were some
of the numerous frequenters of San Marco, who had come to
visit the Prior, and having heard that he was in attendance
on the dying brother in the chapter-house, had awaited him
here.
Komola was dimly conscious of footsteps and rustling forms
moving aside: she heard the voice of Fra Girolamo saying, in
a low tone, " Our brother is departed " ; she felt a hand laid on
her arm. The next moment the door was opened, and she was
out in the wide piazza of San Marco, with no one but Monna
Brigida, and the servant carrying the lantern.
The fresh sense of space revived her, and helped her to re-
cover her self-mastery. The scene which had just closed upon
her was terribly distinct and vivid, but it began to narrow
under the returning impressions of the life that lay outside it.
She hastened her steps, with nervous anxiety to be again with
her father— and with Tito— for were they not together in her
absence? The images of that vision, while they clung about
her like a hideous dream not yet to be shaken oft, made her
yearn aU the more for the beloved faces and voices that would
assure her of her waking life.
'iito, we know, was not with Bardo; his destiny was being
shaped by a guilty consciousness, urging on him the despairing
belief that by this time Eomola possessed the knowledge which
would lead to their final separation.
And the lip6 that could have conveyed that knowledge were
?IA'i>i
A rLOKssmsz jokk. m
region where hu^anlo^L^t wiJI™°°''*i^'° '^^ '*'^<"y
dom; the revelation fW ^^.1 ^ substance of onr wi.-
queaU ofS^ anJlttSl^'ZS^h^-i:^'' •*"^"'
into irrevocable sUence. ' Mteotion had been carried
CHAPTER XVL
A VhOSXHTmiB JOKS,
shotrtfe^rrL-'zzsrj'^f ^rr '"»-K=™*«'-
Genoese straneer had ca^iff Iv * ^^"avMehi. The
was oarryinnway fiftyTir'?.'?-V°^"'^ '^'1 Tito
ttat^tefal,JortS,to e of h^itT" '" "^"^
him from the necessity of auittW %u . ^^''"'^' '»^«^
ter for him not to have parlS ? °"'"''' •" ''""''^ "« •>«'-
understood to wear it f o^rte sl^t of''7'r'"'"' '"' ^""^ ^'^
predUeotionsi 8tiU, it wLa shSt m J ? '^"'^""'^ '^^
on with any emph JIT/in tf "*'' ""* """^ ^"'"^"8
confidences f^rtane^ ^Lt^^T'^'^'^'''^ '°'" J"*'
alarm which had implied his Z^. ««itement of the first
i^ given place ^T^l^^l ,*", ^'■7'^^^ ^e future
much for the pleas^es 2 coull^, ^''"'"'^*- ^« '=^«<1 «>
the good opihL TLs Mwlente '»>;- «"°««k
5u..->--m,^T^;r 'W
m
ROUOLA.
was not in the humor to seek anything; he oonld only await
the first sign of hia altering lot.
The piazza with its sights of beauty was lit up by that
warm morning sunlight under which the autumn dew still lin-
gers, and which invites to an idlesse undulled by fatigue. It
was a festival morning, too, when the soft warmth seems to
steal over one with a special invitation to lounge and gaze.
Here, too, the signs of the fair were present; in the spaces
round the octagonal baptistery, stalls were being spread with
fruit and flowers, and here and there laden mules were stand-
ing quietly absorbed in their nose-bags, while their drivers
were perhaps gone through the hospitable sacred doors to
kneel before the blessed Virgin on this morning of her Nativ-
ity. On the broad marble steps of the Duomo there were
scattered groups of beggars and gossiping talkers : here an old
crone with white hair and hard sunburnt face encouraging a
round-capped baby to try its tu^y bare feet on the warmed
marble, while a dog sitting near snuffed at the performance
suspiciously; there a couple of shaggy-headed boys leaning to
watch a small pale cripple who was cutting a face on a cherry-
stone ; and above them on the wide platform men were making
changing knots in laughing desultory chat, or else were stand-
ing in close couples gesticulating eagerly.
But the largest and most important company of loungers
was that toward which Tito had to direct his steps. It was
the busiest time of the day with Nello, and in this warm sea-
son and at an hour when clients were numerous, most men
preferred being shaved imder the pretty red-and-white awning
in front of the shop rather than within narrow walls. It is
not a sublime attitude for a man, to sit with lathered chin
thrown backward, and have his nose made a handle of; but to
be shaved was a fashion of Florentine respectability, and it is
astonishing how gravely men look at each other when they
are all in the fashion. It was the hour of the day, too, when
yesterday's crop of gossip was freshest, and the barber's
tongue was always in its glory when his razor was busy ; the
deft activity of those two instruments seemed to be set going
by a common spring. Tito foresaw that it would be impossible
for him to escape being drawn into the circle; he must smile
A FWRSamUB JOKE. 173
»«n who let the mer^StS. of r* P'"* "^ *"• ^^
•imply a man of wea^ wnrT "^"^ "^"^^ ^ '"^
But juat at that time Tito f«1f . i.««j i • j
and no amount of preWou7r». i I ^ '?"* °° "^^ "^o-Jd",
Hia face, a. he turned it I„.H tl '"''1'° '"""^ J"'"*! J^-^
but the owner ofTeLdrt^^ ^^^"^ ""> *°''"'l "took:
in It broke intoX^Wh 'Tt*"''*'*''"''^'^""''^^*"
Tito's own aee with t-ln * ^ He was a young man about
and oloee-ahfL J Zot"^'"'- ^T." "'ooe-dipped heaS.
little encumbered X^»ib?ewir°^."''/'^f °* '^ ""'"'^ "
Tous. The keen e™C« l^l^wK ^"^ "'** '"^ "°' "»'"
aa so many other yoZ II™ S ^* ^°^ "^^ friendliness,
closed on tiie worK hS! ' ^^^ ''^^ ^*'« "ft^'^ard
at that time th^re weTeno^ w T^ disappointment, fS
Niccol6 Macchiav 'uTr TrolT '""'?* Predictions ibout
expected to mend th^ b^ken fo^nTff- P"'""'"*' ''^«' ^'^
" Why, Melema. wlTevTl S^^H " ?"*"* ^-^^J^"
that you took my ligh7«MnftT»f/°'\>''' ^* "^sJ-ti
worse? " ' ^ *^"P ^""^ *^* °* a ***w or something
"Ah, Mes8erNiocol6!"aaiilTu«
diately; "it m„st have beeTs^Ilt' """^""S bimself imme-
veim. this morning t'tTu^^dTt^r! "' "^."' ^ ""^
'"•That"*J':^n"' i^'« i a b'adS^ht^?"^ °^ ^°"
withSi„';ssLgTortX'^'i.'".^^^^^ '<"^«
I Uke it fo^anted ^o^u S ^A^ '- ^"°''^ «"^--
Ti.2^txra^S^i--:W.-..me,..s.d
a^™.; .^eryr;ordrrr;:s^-''^-"-^*''
gagements. Why we a™ t^ JZ , moonvenient en-
the loggia amongV^^do B„cerj''^^!f'^ °^''"'' ""<*«
be the choicest splrSinrtZ^f''''^'! there are to
Only, as Hero d^Cdi" St^ tW^r't"^ * ^'"•
inay happen to be swamned in ^ ^"^"^ .*^^ choice spirits
verses. I hate that g^eft is a^^iT^? '""^^^P*"
same, icu a device for the triumph of
m
fn
Wf^^mmX^mLM^'*^'^ 1
i »
i! II
174
ROHOLA.
jl .1
"What la that you are saying about Piero de' Medici and
™J^*f '*°'°"" ''"f^" ^ "°°' '''°« "« ""w last with bared
musoiUararms and leathern apron in the Mercato VeZT
waa this morning dressed in holiday .uit, and as he sTsubl
m^ively while Nello skippedroundhin., lathered hL^S
him by the nose, and scraped him with magical quicknesrhe
^ked much as a lion might if it had donnid linen anT^io
and was preparing to go into society.
„l«t™"f'""'/~'^?^ '"^ "*''*" "«« ^ ^0 '^o'W if he cou-
ples great and smaU in that way," continued Nello. " ^
as they hke, smaU men must not expect to mariy their words
riv^; C ^^ ^ "'Ju"u''.'-'*''* Pagolantonio Soderini ha^
viz ^'mT- f"- ^'^^^'"' " ^^ °° ^0 «" f» setting on
Piero de' Medici to interfere with the marriage between vomb
Tommaso Soderini and Kammetta Strozzi, ListHeZf
ambassador to Venice as a punishment? " '^ " " «» sent
"ZoB'^l^rY^'"^- 1'°"^ ^^ ""«*'" ""d Maochiavelli,
th« Ifr f P-^stment. The offence wiU make him
^e most popular man in »" -torence, and the punishment wS
^1^ T"?^ ^^^ ""'y ^^^'^ ^ ^^y '5^° ^'e known C
to manage their own affairs."
n,-n7«L*^ ^'^*^"' "**yf '""8 *°°»8h at Venice," said Cen-
MedTi but wh7"». ^^Soderinihave been fast friUs of ttf
e^eJ to the J^H f "" "^^^ '' "''^'y *°°P«° Pagolantonio's
eyes to the good of our old Florentine trick of choosing a new
harness when the old one galls us; if we have not Tufte ^Z
the trick in these last fifty years " ^
free^^e I'C 'r "^ ^"^^^ ^*P"^ "^ '•« 'oio^^H in the
r^L „l J^ ^** ^ **y *° °"'- P«°Pl« ''hen they get
noisy over their cups at San Gallo, and talk of raising a ™^
f§ smmmmm^mmd^
.tf &ta m
A FLORENTINB JOKE.
r.x^.- Win u ,„u, a. AtL „:t tK^c!::
with that dLkrua* on you, „£ loo T" ^l:" """*" '*
am ready for you now B^f^" ' ^^^'^ Domenico, I
tinned Kello, The "aw T^o ^r, '"'^"'^ ^^ «'"'^"°'" ''°''-
has been old Maao swW In ^^ ^"""^ ^'^ •J""' "t«e
He wn,«.„eaZplX'TLSCrf r ''-"P'^-
^"J^S^rCillt^rr --» - is dead,.
Bo2a''sa:*'L'r " '^^^^^^ «"' ^-th happened before
"No, I had not heard it " ha ,„iA -iv
posnrethantheoccasionsL^^^^^t^tJ - -ore di«,om-
«n« against the doorpost as if 1^ h J^^ T"'*' "°* '*»"■
8«»ing away. « I knew tw hi. -w ^J*? "^ •"« '"'^•^O" of
Didhedie^beforeSearStd"' ""^ "^ «"'"' *» ««" l"^-
"No," said Cronaca; "I wan in h.» «
•aw her come out fr^ the Ihtn^ T "''° ** *« *^«> and
who told us that thXng mSs bi'h'Jf'if* ^'^°"^°'
as by a miracle, that he miht n,»t«T-? ^"^ '*'° P'*«'"«<J
Tito felt that his fate wlfdL^H^ •^r'°''"o ^ his sister."
»ver all the oiren^Sllof hTsti J^T ^'' "^"^ """""1
he conceived a pta^^S baT^"" *'°'° ^^°™»<=«. and
before the disclo'snre had'toL p„\ur TfT '~" ^f^
money he need not star Ion,, iT <.?^ . "^'^ ^^ ^^
-d biting words. H^w'Sd w'JT;" "'/""-^-S looks
Cannini and eet the mZ.^ Z v° ' ^^ «° «^ay with
project in his mtd he TtZi^l ^ ."* T'' ^'^l" "^^t
Wa eyes fi«d absentlt^ T ''"-'^ ^'^'^s i° 1^8 belt,
him, Lt sure tSKasabSZ"^'- ^'"'°' «""''^8 «*
i
I
't^_
176
ROMOL^
given for hia lefasd to see any piognoatios of chancter in U«
faTonte's handsome face. Piero, who was leaning against the
other doorpost, close to Tito, shrugged his shoulders; the fre-
quent reonrrence of such challenges from Nello had changed
the painter's first declaration of neutrality into a positiy* in-
clination to believe ill of the much-praised Greek.
" So you have got your Fra Girolamo back again, Cronaoa?
I suppose we shall have him preaching again this next Ad-
vent," said Nello.
^ "And not before there U need," said Cronaoa, gravely.
"We have had the best testimony to his words since the last
Quaresima; for even to the wicked wickedness has become a
plague i and the ripeness of vice is turning to rottenness in the
nostrils even of the vicious. There has not been a change
since the Quaresima, either in Borne or at Florence, but has
put a new seal on the Frate's words— that the harvest of sin
is ripe, and that God will reap it with a sword."
" I hope he has had a new vision, however," said Francesco
Cei, sneeringly. "The old ones are somewhat stale. Can't
your Frate get a poet to help out his imagination for him? "
"He has no lack of poeia about him," said Cronaca, with
quiet contempt, " but they are great poets and not little ones;
so they are contented to be taught by him, and no more think
the truth stale which God has given him to utter than they
think the light of the moon is stale. But perhaps certain high
prelates and princes who dislike the Frate's denunciations
might be pleased to hear that, though Giovanni Pico, and
Poliziano, and Marsilio Ficino, and most other men of mark
in Florence, reverence Fra Girolamo, Hesser Francesco Cei
despises him."
" PoUziano? " said Cei, with a scornful laugh. " Yes, doubt-
less he believes in your new Jonah; witness the fine orations
he wrote for the envoys of Sienna, to tell Alexander the Sixth
that the world and the Church were never so well off as since
he became Pope."
"Nay, Francesco," said Maochiavelli, smiling, "a various
scholar must have various opinions. And as for the Frate,
whatever we may think of his saintliness, you judge his
preaching too narrowly. The secret of oratory lies, not in
▼ r
A PLORBimint JOKK. 177
WTing nei^ ttirigs, but in wying things with a certain power
that moves the hearers-without which, as old Filelfo has said
your speaker deserve, to be called, 'non oratorem, sed «ra-
toem. ^ And, according to that test, Fra Girelamo is a great
"That is true, Nicool6,» w^id Cennini, speaking from the
^™r.?L"' ''"',P'"' "* '^^ ■""* lies fa the prophetic
v«ions. Our people-no offence to you, Cronaca-wiS run
after anythmg in the shape of a prophet, especially if he
prophesies terrors and tribulations." '
"Bather say, Cennini," answered Cronaca, "that the chief
secret lies m the Frate's pure life and s^ng fait^ whi^
stamp him as a messenger of God."
"I admit it-I admit it," said Cennini, opening his palms,
"He is satisfied with the pleasant lust of arrogance," Cei
W out bitterly «I can see it in that proud Up%nd satis
fied eye of his He hears tiie air fiUed with his own naLZ-
^^^-'Ji?^" Sa;^°napola, of Ferrara; the prophet^ the saint,
the mighty preacher, who frightens the very babies of Florenc^
into laymg down their wicked bawbles."
.„ "?°'"-^' T""' ^T'^^'^' y°" "« °"' °* l"«"or with wait-
^fU r .l^M'"""^*"'^ ^*'"°- " ^^ ""» '*"V your moutii
with a lutle lather. I must not have my friend Cronaca made
angry: I have a regard for his chinj and his chin is -in no
respect altered since he became a Piagnone. And for mv
own part, I confess, when the Frate was preaching in the
Duomo last Advent, I got into such a trick of slipping ia to
hsten to him that I might have turned Piagnone ^, tf I had
not been hindered by the ..beral nature of my art; and also
by the length of the sermon,, which are sometim;, a good
wl'i^l^t *^'^5v*^ *^'' ""'^S P°^'- But, as Messer
N1CC0I6 here says the Frate lays hold of the people by some
power over and above his prophetic visions. Monks and nuns
who prophesy are not of that rareness. For what says Luigi
^ci? Dombruno's sharp-cutting cimiter had tiie fame of
temg enchanted; but,' says Luigi, ' I am rather of opinion
that It ou^ sharp because it was of strongly tempered steel.'
1TB
ROMOLA.
Ye^ yet; PatenuMtets in»y ihave oleu, but Umt moft h»
•aid over a good razor."
"Bte, Ndlol " «aid MaoohiaTelli, "what doctor i. this ad-
janoing on his Bucephalus? I thought your piazza was free
from those furred and scarlet-robed lackeys of death This
mi^ looks a, if he had had some such night adventure as'
Boooawsio's Maestro Simons, and had his bonnet and mantie
pick ed a Uttle in the gutter; though he himself is as sleek as
a miller's rat"
"A-ahl" said Nello, with a low long-drawn intonation, as
he looked up toward the advancing figure-a round-headed,
pound^oodied personage, seated on a raw young horse, which
hew Its nose out with an air of threatening obstinacy, and bv
a constant effort to back and go off in an oblique line showed
freo views about authority very much in advance of the age.
' And I have a few more adventures in pickle for him »
oonlmued Nello, in an undertone, "which I hope will drive
his inquiring nostrils to another quarter of the city. He's a
doctor from Padua, they say he has been at Prato for three
months, and now he's come to Florence to see what he can net.
But his great trick is making rounds among the oontadini
And do you note those great saddle-bags he carries? They
are to hold the fat capons and eggs and meal he levies on silly
clowns with whom coin is scaiee. He vends his own seorrt
m^icines, so he keeps away from the doors of the druggists:
aad for this h»t week he has taken to sitting in my pij^ f o^
two or three hours every day, and making it a resort for
asthmas and squalling bambini. It stirs my gall to see the
toad-faced quack fingering the greasy quattrlni, or bagjrinB a
pigeon w exchange for his pills and powders. But PU nut a
few thorns in his saddle, else Pm no Florentine. Laudamus I
he 18 TOmmg to be shavedj that's what Pve waited for
Messer Domemoo, go not away: wait; you shall see a rare bit
5^ '"^'.''^"'^ ^ ^''^^ *"» ^y^ »8o. Here, Sandrol "
Nello whispered in the ear of Sandro, who rolled his solemn
eyes, nodded, and, following up these signs of understanding
with a slow smile, took to his heels with surprising rapidity.
How is It with you. Maestro Tacco?" said Nello, as the
doctor, with difficulty, brought his horse's head round toward
A ITX)I«NTIirE JOKE.
170
the bMber-. diop. « TUt i. . fine young ho™ of your., but
•omething raw in the mouth, eh? " '
"He is an aoouTMd beast, the vemoeane seize himl » said
!^r TT-J^^ ' v""* "' '""^°-' deBcendrng from hi.
•addle and fartenmg the old bridle, mended with string, to
Mi«m "taple m the wall. " Nevertheless," he added, r^l-
l^ » i ' "?'* •*"* ""* " '»'"»"«. f<" °°« who
" Bather too hard riding for a man who carries your weiirht
i^,"'«; "'■' ^^"""^ " ""•* N«"°- " You .eim hot »
Kruly, I am Ultely to be hot," said the doctor, taking off
his tonnet, and giving to fuU view a bald low head and flat
17^-*°*' T"? ^'^^ """^ '•'*' "P'*"' "">"«"- ~»»d eyes,
^i^ith^ ^^^^"^^iT, '"~^'' *" P™J««ti"g eyebrows, whS
altogether made Nello's epithet "toad-faced" dubiously com-
plimentary to the blameless batrachian. " Riding from Pere-
toU, when the sun is high, is not the same thing as kicking
your heels on a bench in the shade, like your Florence doc-
t^r^if^T"''/ ^*^'' ^^ "°* " "">" P"'"°8 *» get through
the carta and mules into the Mercato, to find out the husbaf d
of a certain MonnaGhita, who had had a fatal seizure before
my "ee'S!^"' *" '* ^^ °°* •**" '^** ^ ^^ *^ '^""'"'l
"Monna Ghital " said Kello, as the perspiring doctor inter-
rupted hunself to rub his head and facf "V^L be^th W
angry soul! The Mercato wiU want a whip the more if her
tongue IS laid to rest."
Tito, who had roused himself from his abstraction, and was
Iwtening to the dialogue, felt a new rush of the va^e halt-
formed ideas about Tessa which had passed through his mind
fte evening before : if Monna Ghita were really taken out of
the way, it would be easier for him to see Tessa again— when-
ever he wanted to see her.
" Gnaffi Maestro," NeUo went on, in a sympathizing tone,
"you are the slave of rude mortals, who, but for you, would
die like brutes, without help of pill or powder. It is pitiful
to see your learned lymph oozing from your pores as if it were
mere vulgar moUture. You think my shaving will cool and
tm
■OXOLA.
I
diwnoimiber yonf On* momrat ud I har* don* with !(•_
Fnno«tao hare. It laemf to me • thooMnd yeui till I wait
upon a nan who carriaa all tha loianoa of Arabia in hia haad
•nd laddla-bagi. Eoool "
Nallo held up the shaTing-oloth with an air of inTitattoD,
and Maeitro Tacco adraaoed and seated himaelf nndar a piaea-
aupation with his heat and hia self-importanoe which mad*
him qnita deaf to the irony oonrqred in NelWa offiaioualT
polite speech.
" It is but fitting that a great medious like you, " said Ke Uoi
adjusting the doth, " should be shaved by the same razor that
has shaved the illustrious Antonio Benevieni, the greatest
master of the ohirurgio art."
" The ohirurgio art I " interrupted the doctor, with an air o(
contemptuous disgust. « Is it your Florentine fashion to put
the masters of the science of medicine on a level with men
who do carpentry on broken limbs, and sew up wounds like
tailors, and carve away excrescences as a butcher trims meatf
Via/ A manual art, such as any artificer might learn, and
which has been practised by simple barbers like yourself —on
a level with the noble science of Hippocrates, Galen, and Ari-
oenna, which penetrates into the occult influences of the stars
and plants and gems I— a science looked up from the vulgar I "
"No, in truth, Maestro," said Nello, using his lather very
deUberately, as if ha wanted to prolong the operation to the
utmost, "I never thought of placing them on a level: I know
your science comes next to the miracles of Holy Chnroh for
mystery. But there, you see, is the pity of it "—here Nello
feU into a tone of regretful sympathy— "your high science is
sealed from the profane and the vulgar, and so you become an
object of envy and slander. I grieve to say it, but there are
low fellows in this city— mere tghem, who go about in night-
caps and long beards, and make it their business to sprinkle
gall in every man's broth who is prospering. Let me tell you
—for yon are a stranger- this is a city where every man had
need carry a large naU ready to fasten on the wheel of For-
tune when his side happens to be uppermost Already there
are stories— mere faUes doubtless— beginning to be buzzed
about conceming you, that make me wish I could hear of your
A FLORBMim jon. m
^J^i-^r'.*"-^"**- I *««>ld not I1.T. •««.«£
ywr mrtal .t«Md. for though 8»n Stef ^o wu •toned, he wm
"wSdor^tLS^ ^"e.r».t«n».^ M^t^i^
.y"^""^ ^ '•" "• y°" "• «>"»• »nto the tnp for tou
tag iUrp tool, m their pooket,-no wrt of door, or wS
or gutter but they wiU pierce it. They ue poe^Ld wXi
m^ni »? ""l'**: '* °""* •« *^V "l-o h«ve done 1^5
medioinei H.ve you by ohanoe detected any JLm awrtol
to look; for it is now commonly talked of that you hare h^
i^in your dwelling at the Canto di PagKX.« vZ
jacret .pecific. by night: pounding dried JLu S a LC
oompoun^i^g a .alve out of maahed worm,, and making yoS
piUe f rom the dr,ed liver, of raU whloh7ou mU witt S
wSn'.T?.'^' utterance of a bUephemoua TuZZ£Z
which indeed these witnesses profess to repeat."
«t^^«„ir''°i!r"?"^°'«'^ ""> ''«*'r, struggling to
grt uttonmco, and then desisting in alarm at the app^hiij
vnl' l*J3 r* *".?'*' ? "^ °' '^' "Mpeotable company, that
^ K ^ "^y '^'' '*'~*°'- '^« "« not the headsto pH
'^aZT " *^r ^- ^'" "^'' "^ '»""' What C^
handful of reasonable men against a crowd with stones in thei^
hands? There are those among us who think Cecco d'Asc^S
X^,r •'^!r""' "• »" ^"^ how he was '.umt
ahve for being wiser than his fellows. Ah, doctor, it is not
UyZltVtT *^\r: '""i""- *° J^nowFlii^Le^
ttey could find a good excuse for it; and they are persuaded
that you are a necromancer, who is trying to raise tte Zt^
lence by selling secret medicines-and I Itol^urspS.
have in truth an evil smell." "iwumo.
"It ia falMl " burst out the doctor, as NeUo moved away
in
ROIIOU.
t*r*T'*^,**^' I ^ •»«*»>>• pint and th.powd«
odor_.nodorof_of«lv,.» H. «:• »d up with th. tathw
OD hi. ohin, and the oloth round hi. neok, to Woh iu hi. Md-
r^ *^,.*^I '*"*'* ">•<"'''»•■. -nd N«Uo in «, inrtttt
adroitly d.ift«d the .h.ving-ohMr till it wm in th. dco Wdn-
i^ of th« horse's head, while 8»ad«>, who htd now returned,
«bT ,. ? •"' ""'"■ P'"*^ •'»""'•" "•»' the bridle.
Behold, Messeril " said the doctor, bringing a unall bo>
of mediomes and opening it before them. "Let any lignor
•pply this box to hi. noetril., and he will find an honeet^or
of medioameou-not inde«i of pounded gen,,, or rare rege-
table. from the East, or stone, found in the bodies of biX
for I practise on the diseases of the vulgar, for whom Heaven
has provided cheaper and less powerful remedies according to
Uieir degree : and there are even remedies known to our science
which are entirely free of oos^-as the new tu»u may be conn-
teraoted in the poor, who can pay for no specifics, by » „«>■
lute holding of the breath. And here is a p^ which t,7Z
ofwvory odor and u infallible against melancholia, being con-
cocted under the conjunction of Jupiter and Venu. : and I have
wen It allay spa«n.." '
"Stay, Maestro," Mid Nello, while the doctor had hi. lath-
ered face turned toward the group near the door, eagerly hold-
ing out his box, and lifting out one sp«,ific afteTanother-
here oomes a crying contadina with her baby. Doubtlesi
totwT"^^ "' l?"' " " ^'^^' '^ opportunity for you
to .how this honorable company a proof of your skui. Here,
buona donnal here is the famou. doctor. Why, what i. ^
matter with the sweet bimbo ? "
.J^A 1«~"°",7" "ddresMd to a sturdy-looking, broad-
shouldered «,ntodina with her head-drapery folded about her
face so that little was to be seen but a bronzed nose and a pair
of dark eyes and eyebrows. She carried her child packed up
m the BtiSf mummy-shaped case in which Italian babies have
been from time immemorial introduced into society, tuminir
Its face a little toward her bosom, and making those sorrowfiU
grimaces which women are i. he habit of using a. a wrt of
pulleys to draw down reluctant tears.
A nOREMTIini JOKE.
189
"Oh, for U)« 10T« of I
I ... '>^7 M»donn»l " uid the woman
to . w.Jmg voio. i " wiU you look .t mj poor *.«««? T^i
TOklonj^ But when I wa. holding it before the 8anti«im.
«^w^ '"■»•»'*'•<' they „id there w« a new^tor
*7 rjl" """^ ««7thing; «,d M I thought it might be the
WiU of the Holy Madonna that I .hould bring it to you."
Bit down, Maestro, eit down," «id Nello. "Here i. an
dJ^'I^^iH:^ JZ' •""• "' ''°°°""'' '"'»•••«• *ho will
declare before the Magnificent Eight that they have seen yon
pr«t...n6 honeaUy and relieving . poor womin'a child. AnS
then If your life i. in danger, the Magnificent Eight will put
you in priwn a litUe while juet to insure your saf^^ aC
Hffh'f \^^".'}"^ "" ~"'*"''* y°" °"t »' Florence by
^w *.. ^T ^'^ *• ^••'lo"'' ^'e Minore who preach^
tnrowing; but we hare magistrates."
The doctor unable to refuse, seated himself in the shaving-
oha«, trembling, half with fear and half with rage, and by
this time quite unconscious of the lather which Nello had laid
on with such profuseness. He deposited hU medicine-case on
his toees, took out his precious spectacles (wondrous Floren-
tine devioer) from his wallet, lodged them carefuUy above his
Ks.^dThetpttt'^ ""' ^^' "^ ^" "--" *""<^
"O Santiddio! look at him," said the woman with a more
^l^^'J^ . ? *''"' " •''«' ^"^^ °»' the small mummy,
which had Its head completely concealed by dingy draoeri
wound round the head of the portable cradle, but VeemeTto
be strugglmg and crying in a demoniacal fashion under this
imprisonment "The fit is on him I OhimiJ I know what
color he IS ; it's the evU eye— oh 1 "
The doctor, uixiously holding his knees together to support
his box, bent his spectacles toward the baby, and said cau-
Sal" """^ ^ " "'^ "^^'^ """'"'^ «'•"«' «*•'
The oontadina, with sudden energy, snatehed off the en«L.-
cUng Imeu, when out 8truggled-,«ratehing, grinning," and
I
IM
BOHOU.
Kwaming— what the doctor in his fright fuUy belieTsd to he
• demon, but what Tito recognized as Vaiano's monkey, made
more formidable by an artificial blackness, such as might har*
oome from a hasty rubbing up the chimney.
Up started the unfortunate doctor, letting his medieine-box
fall, and away jumped the no less terrified and indignant
monkey, finding the first resting-place for his claws on the
horse s mane, which he used as a sort of rope-ladder till ha
had fairly found his equilibrium, when he continued to clutch
It as a bridle. The horse wanted no spur under such a rider,
and, the already loosened bridle offering no resistance, darted
off across the piazza, with the monkey, clutching, grinning.
and blinking, on his neck. *
" llcavallo ! 11 Diavolo/ " was now shouted on all sides by
the Idle rascals who gathered from all quarters of the piazzi
and was echoed in tones of alarm by the staU-keepers, whose
Tested interests seemed in some danger; whUe the doctor, out
of his wits with confused terror at the Devil, the possible
: Qing, and the escape of his horse, took to his heels with
spectacles on nose, lathered face, and the shaving-cloth about
his neck, crying— "Stop him I stop him I for a powder— a
flonn-stop him for a florin I" while the lads, outstripping
bim, clapped their hands and shouted encouragement to the
runaway.
The eerretana, who had not bargained for the flight of hia
monkey along with the horse, had caught up his petticoats
with much celerity, and showed a pair of party-colored hose
above his contadina's shoes, far in advance of the doctor
And away went the grotesque race up the Corso degli Adimari
—the horse with the singular jockey, the contadina with the
remarkable hose, and the doctor in lather and spectacles, with
furred mantle out&ying.
It was a scene such as Florentines loved, from the potent
and reverend signer going to council in his luoco, down to the
grinning youngster who felt himself master of aU situations
when his bag was filled with smooth stones from the conven-
ient dry bed of the torrent. The gray-headed Domenioo Can-
nini laughed no less heartily than the younger men, and Nello
was triumphantly secure of the general a/lmiT ^tiffn^
%imhjm.rfL^Mi
UNDER THE LOGGIA.
18S
if I J V ' *^«'«"^ will you go too? "
bnt^fi^" ^ri'*'^ ^''°'* ^*««''^°° t° accompany Cennini
^no"S:i¥r;vrc""^^^"^"^"^^^^
toSt^LrZdT^'"'""^""'^''- She wished Tito to go
under tI^wS"at ITn'^^/T.'''''^ ^'^^ "'"^•^ ««" ^'^
.peak to h^*fS.f ^ "* "^^ '""""^ ■" '*« ''^•^ to
CHAPTER XVn.
UNDXB THE LOOOIA.
m^SoifL V , "" "•^* toward the street the roof was
i«» conung toward hi. i„ ,„^i^, ^Jj^ rai'so^^oTab?
IM
ROHOLA.
mortal by her aoft hazel eyea, he fell into wishing that she had
been something lower, if it were only that she might let him
clasp her and kiss her before they parted. He had had no
real 4saress from her — nothing but now and then a long glance^
a kiss, a pressure of the hand; and he had so often longed
that they should be alone together. They were going to be
alone now; but he saw her standing inexorably aloof from
him. His heart gave a great tlirob as he saw the door move:
Bomola was there. It was all like a flash of lightning : he
felt, rather than saw, the glory about her head, the tearful
appealing eyes ; he felt, rather tjian heard, the cry of love with
which she said, " Tito I "
And in the same moment she was in his arms, and sobbing
with her face against his.
How poor Bomola had yearned through the watehes of the
night to see that bright facet The new image of death; the
strange bewildering doubt infused into her by the story of a
life removed from her understanding and sympathy ; the haunt-
ing vision, which she seemed not only to hear uttered by the
low gasping voice, but to live through, as if it had been her
own dream, had made her more conscious than ever that it
was Tito who had first brought the warm stream of hope and
gladness into her life, and who had first turned away the keen
euge of pain m the remembrance of her brother. She would
tell Tito everything; there was ua one else to whom she could
tell it. She had been restraining herself in the presence of
her father all the morning; but now that long-pent-up sob
might come forth. Froud and self-controlled to all the world
beside, Bomola was as simple and unreserved as a child in her
love for Tito. She had been quite contented with the days
when they had only looked at each other; but now, when she
felt the need of clinging to him, there was no thought that
hindered her.
" My Bomola t my goddess I " Tito murmured with passion-
ate fondness, as he clasped her gently, and kissed the thick
golden ripples on her neck. He was in paradise : disgrace,
shame, parting — there was no fear of them any longer. This
happiness was too strong to be marred by the sense that
Bomola was deceived in him; nay, he could only rejoice in her
TODEB THE LOGGI4. 157
SSL'S ^-^ S'^n* »« -""-i
potenjr in mere wuhe.. Bomoref S^w ^'T""^
^ht, . their d*. ,^ „ ,, U'fe^ rjp^
g«t it; it aeems as if it would «™1J1 °*^" *°'-
thing I BhaU looklt!" "' '^"^ ""> «"* «^»y-
toapeai^, her thought, had LveZa liS"' *" ""*"
^^a^etTer/USof^o'ul^^""''"'^*--"*'^.
IM
ROMOLA.
oome aoroH him l«st the vision should somehow or other relate
to Baldassarre; and this sudden change of feeling prompted
him to seek a change of position.
Bomola told him all that had passed, from her entrance into
S^ Marco, hardly leaving out one of her brother's worda,
which had burnt themselves into her memory as they were
spoken. But when she was at the end of the vision, she
paused; the rest came too vividly before her to be uttered, and
she sat looking at the distance, almost unconscious for the
moment that Tito was near her. Bia mind was at ease now :
that vague vision had passed over him like white mist, and
left no mark. But he was silent^ expecting her to speak again
I took it," she went on, as if Tito had been reading her
thoughts; "I took the crucifix; it is down below in my bed-
room." '
"And now, my Bomohi," said Tito, entreatingly, "you wiU
banish these ghasUy thoughts. The vision was an ordinary
monkish vision, bred of fasting and fanatical ideas. It gurelT
has no weight with you. "
" No, Tito ; no. But poor Dino, he beUeved it was a divine
message. It is strange, " she went on meditatively, " this life
of men possessed with fervid beliefs that seem like madness to
their fellow-bemgs. Dino was not a vulgar fanatic; and Fra
Girolamo— his very voice Seems to have penetrated me with a
sense that there is some truth in what moves them: some
truth of which I know nothing."
"It was only because your feelings were highly wrought,
my Eomola. Your brother's state of mind was no r-ore than
a form of that theosophy which has been the oomn i disease
of excitable dreamy minds in all ages; the same laeas that
your father's old antagonist, Marsilio Ficino, pores over in the
Sew Platonists; only your brother's passionate nature drove
him to act out- what other men write and talk about. And for
Fra Girolamo, he is simply a narrow-minded monk, with a gift
of preaching and infusing terror into the multitude Any
words or any voice would have shaken you at that moment
When your mind has had a Uttie repose, you wiU judge of
such thmgs as you have always done befbre."
" Not about poor Dino, " said Romola. " I was angry with
ili=#l^ii^^S#' i^^V-J?
WDER THE LOOGIA. j^g
him; inyheartseemedtoolo8eamin«n,im_>.i v
m; but since then I havrtCue« of wL^''"'"'*^■
unta at L t°? seemedt Jrv. ^^T ""** '* '""'"^ ^^'P him.
iag face shed plty^.''^ *° ""' ^^ ^' ^f^«^^ <^ « the snfler-
fit'KciTtrt: z *:™''ir^ *''-«^»' ^oy -
looks made to scatter «I ... 7 .f ^J''"-t™''»«d Aurora, who
think of them nZ^fs^Mt'd'^:^''''- '''^ °°' *°
The ]a«f „^,^ ' ^°°8 be alone together."
right hand ""^ •""" ^^^ " K»tle touch of hS
whJe been in the chapter-house, lookin j^.t kf , • *" ""*
sorrow and death. Jooiung at the pale linages of
to gather round it all imlgS „f t ' T*^- ''''** «"•"«•*
between the elms the sZnl . J°y-P"P'e vines festooned
vibrating hea bri!?,t t!" ^ " perfecting itself under the
-onSettrtt JdrtrS th'e""^^^^
with cymbals held aloft liX„i!i"^.®**^ '° gladness
«g rhythm of strt^flir k- T'^T "^^^ '" the thrill-
xvfture^evefitaheVfle '"^.f '"'^1i'°""*^« ''"'* *«" "^
"•""8 K» grasp; It was an experience
i:i
1
I
tm
ROMOLA.
hardly longer than a ligh, for the eager theoridag of age* to
compressed, as in a seed, in the momentaiy want of a ringle
"wu-7°* ***" "■• "^ ""^*' *° "*«' ^' '^*^> and i* v«n-
lah^ before the returning rush of young sympathy with the
glad loTing beauty that beamed upon her in new radiance, likd
the dawn after we have looked away from it to the gray west.
Your mmd lingers apart from our love, my Romoh," Tito
said, with a soft reproachful murmur. " It seems a forgotten
thing to you. " o"-""
She looked at the beseeching eyes in sUence, till the sadness
au melted out of her own.
"ICy joy ! » she said, in her full clear voice.
Do you reaUy care for me enough, then, to banish those
chill fancies, or shall you alwaya be suspecting me as the Great
Tempter?" said Tito> with his bright smile.
"How should I not care for you more than for everrthinB
else? Everything I had felt before in all my life-about my
father, and about my loneliness-was a preparation to love
you. You would laugh at me, Tito, if you knew what sort of
man 1 used to think I should marry-some scholar with deep
line, in his face, like Alamanno Kinucciui, and with rather
gray hair, who would agree with my father in taking the side
of the Aristotelians, and be willing to live with him. I used
to think about the love I read of in the poe^ but I never
dreamed that anything like that could happen to me here in
Flownce in our old library. And then you came, Tito, and
wers so much to my father, and I began to beUeve that life
could be happy for me too."
"My goddess! is there any woman like you?" said Tito
with a mixture of fondness and wondering admiration at th^
Wended majesty and simplicity in her.
" But, dearest," he went on, rather timidly, " if you minded
more about onr marriage, you would persuade your father and
Messer Bernardo not to think of any mora deUys. But you
seem not to mind about it."
" Yes, Tito, I wUl, I do mind. But I am sure my godfather
will urge more delay now, because of Dino's death. He has
never agreed with my father about disowning Dino, and you
know he has always said that we ought to wait until jton have
mi^ ^m
VSDKR THB LOGOtA. m
"And not one kiss? 1 have not had one. " said Tito m n.
exoase presumption ^ " ""** '^^ *»
Sorc^-^'''^ *^* thei, kiL:ri're^ Ke i
we"?W^ """^ """'' *^*' ''^^•' ^^ B°-oIa, "before
sM?anTr^rhitr;xZnTri*':i:k^^ t^^«
So^U.ern Italy, where' though irban,'nr'b;:Ss^
but by delicious languors such as never seU to cl™^^
ingenia aoerrima Florentina ' I shonM lit. * T*
that southen. sun. lying among titwi'tuMu^
enjoyment, while I b«it over 'you and Z£^X. Tu^ «"
191
ROHOLA.
tSh ^ TkT'^"^" unoon«rion, .train that .Mined aU on.
^th the Ught and the warmth. You have nerer known Oat
happbew of the nymph^ my Homola."
'No; but I have dreamed of it often .inoe yon came. lam
^ « « *>. "M"^ °°* *^^ "* '* "°^' Tito; it .eemTto
me a. if there wou^d alway. be pale wdfaoe. among the flow-
•n, and eyeaUurt look in Tain, letnago."
OHAPTEB XVm.
THX POBTBAIT.
TW Tito left the Via de' Bardi that day in exultant ut-
igfaotion at finding himself thoroughly free from the threatened
peril, hiB thoughts, no longer claimed by the immediate prei-
enw of Romola and her father, recurred to those futile hours
of dread in which he was conscious of having not only felt but
acted a. he wou^d not have done if he had had a truer fore-
"V .V ""^^^ °°* ^''^ P*'*«^ ^^*'^ Ws imgi for Eomola.
and others to whom it was a familiar object, would be a littte
struck with the apparent sordidness of parting with a gem he
had professedly cherished, unless he feigned as a reason the
aZ^J^^" ^^^ special gift with the purchase-money;
and Tito had at that moment a nauseating weariness of simu-
lation. He was well out of the possible consequences that
might have fallen on him from that initial deception, and it
was no longer a load on his mind; kind fortune had brought
hm immunity, and he thought it was only fair that she shovUd.
Who was aurt by it? The results to Baldassarre were too
problematical ti) be taken into account. But he wanted now
to be free fiom any hidden shackles that would gall him.
though ever so little, under his ties to Eomola. He was not
aware that that very delight in immunity which prompted res-
olutions not to entangle himself again, was deadening the «en-
sibUities which alone could save him from entanglement.
But, after aU, the sale of the ripg was a slight matter.
THl PORTHAIT. 193
ZJ^Z » ^"^^T"^ *° «-"• and chance? Happy d3s
«d jUBtlean. rf her stepfather treated her more cruX „ow
HSr "=""'•« -^H
J««ld carry out a pretty ingenious thought which S set
^more at ease in accounting for the absence of h^lg to
S fe,rL ** '^'° »«7« Wa " a means of gu JZg W
ZjiS^T,?^ '~Tru°* *^°'*' '""'^'^l' fancies which ie^
mK/ "PT"^* *» him; and with this thought in C
mmd, he went to the Via Gualfonda to find Piero dicZ^
tt«amst whoatthat time was pre-eminent rthe£rtS
Bntenn^the court on which Kero's dweUing opened, Tito
IM
MOMOLA.
SHar^a XT"'"' '^""'««-- ~"<^ »Pto the .CS.,
ml^™^''""^'"""' thqra,».Ur..dyboU«l.„y
Piero took the coin out of the leathern soamlb x- Kf. iw.u
«.d the little maiden totted away. ^'^S^ffw^oi^
glwoe, of .w«i admiration at the .urpriain^Sr^
What do you want at my door, Me»«,r Greco? I «aw roa
s^r^d^iLTn-riiiL'Si^^^
g^,^pers:s2^--;p-^
~1 r^uZni-^- --iS
prompted me to come to yon." •'«i> wwi
ne painter's manners were too notorionsly ode" to all th.
If Tito h«l suspected any offensiye iattation, the impiJaTto
TH» MRTRAIT. jgg
out the oamer. of hi. moutt ^ ntj? /"""ef '^*^»^
"And what nuiy that need be?" ha ..m •#»
Ptuse. In hi. hwrt he wJ^m^L k !f^T .''*"' » """"Mt'.
of .pplying hi. i^wtfoT ^'^^ ""^ *' ^^*^ opportunity
f.biTlVS!tw^h'°™J''T ^•^~' '^- '">- -rtain
- ."-nr?ai:'A7;,Sie':rri''i^iS'r''°'
th« ii»»_in the form of » WDt.ahri^^i »Ul iliow jm
must be thv«i «;^fl "' thema.t.and sail., the oar.
^d5ibStrtSg";i?x'r •"'"" ^•'»'
the 'air-haired Ariadne wia».?r^S"' ^ ''*°* ^ ^'^
golden crown-thSnotLoS,^' TT^ "'* ^«
will conceive it all-and atov?tte«t^U "^°° """*«'' y"»
•uch as you know how toltint I^ « '^ ^°"°« ^'«''
point, of tteir arrTwa-L^ ^ * '**'*"« '^«' «»" »* thi
other .en's thought ' ruVct: T""" ** ''""'^ '^^^
egg^heU. a^ a bankof Lhe.^n T " ''f " "^ '""'^'^
that sordid litter, thire wL" W J /^""f "''^P^* ''"»
196
ROMOLA.
nitaue In the large room, eioept cu, wooden ttepe, evaU
•nd rough boxe., all feetooned with cobweb.. »"• — ~
«owd«l Apparently Piero was keeping the Fert^ for the
double door underneath the window which admitted the
ptlQter ■ light from aboTe, was thrown open, and ibowed a
puden, or rather thicket, in which fig-tree, and rine. grew in
Ung ed trailing w.).Ine« among netUe. and hemlock., and
W..h mulberry .«.• T^ .,.,,„ j, t^^t jank luxuriic.
had begun to p..-, ... :., „Te,. wi L, the wall, of the wide and
oa^ed marl.le . a. ra.nt, : r \ nu.t: mor. tuft, of long ^
and dark fe^taery i.,n,.,l bad r.aJ.. their way, and a Lg.
.i-siuc, b'-avM to be pouring out the
' ; ' . A!l about the wall, hung pen and
!;« sea iiutnters; dances of Mtyr. and
.'•J lesjit jction out of the deTouring
. -, : ^ - •'• ">'P^in»l light upon them : .tudie.
f/ viir*^ Srotesque head., and on irregular rough .belre.
com, bullock,' horns, piece, of dried honeycomb, .tone, with
feL^.« 'f7-<'°'<"-«d lichen, .kull. and bone^ peacock.'
duy litter of the floor were Uy figure. ; one in the frock of a
Vallombwaan monk, .trangely .urmounted by a helmet with
barr^Tiwr, another .mothered with brocade and .kin. ha.tUT
Sr^^ T i^ '"«~'" '"'''' P*«'^«<» <» •'"tting, too
W to fly at the entrance of men, three corpulent Ud.
TnT. r!"'*'^r "'*""**« friendly way near the door-stone:
«»hf/- n™ -^'^ apparently the model for that which wa^
f nghtoning Cupid m the picture of Mar. and Venn, placed on
on a box full of bran. «~""wn.
Tito^i'J!"'' ^t^- ?"^" ^"^ ^'''~' "»•*"« « sign to
then rtandmg over him with folded arms, " don't be tiy-ig to
.tonevau, ''Itflilov
ivy that itiuimed n
oil .ketohes ot ta.,ti>'
mtenada; Saint M^nr
dragon; Madonna. i
TBI PORTRAIT. i^
tL In^.TS!.'.? """''' ''•'" ">" ""• triptych."
"There's nothing about the ArUdne then. " ;^ Ti» •
ing hun the Daauin- « hn* - ^ "•"' ^^ "ito, (t-t-
lag down into Tito', face "••*•' '" ' •" ""Ided, loolt-
"And when shall I ait for vou?" mM Tit„. ««~-. ,
onelikene.., we must have two" ' "for Jwohaya
"I don't want your likeneas ; I've got it already, " said Piero
wt'."" "" "P'^^^B, Piero laid down the book and went to
1«8
ROXOLA.
wI^T^,^^^ ■"■* ^^ '* *»'«» Tito', ey*
He saw huudf with hi. right hand .plifted, holdiiur • winil
Zf^^ *^ f"*°'l' ** tri«nph«t ^rb.t wi7lS.T^
fZf ST^^f^l'^ """ ""P ''•"' "" exp«Mion of moh inl«»
!Z.™ Jf " '^*l^ "^'i' •"** P*"""^ "P«' *»»* •»• felt -^
sympathy with his imaged eelf .
"You are beginning to look like it already," aaid Piera
wiOi a short Uugh, moving the picture away again. " He^
seeing a ghost-that fine young man. I shall finish it some
day, when I've settled what sort of ghost is the most terrible-
wh.th«r it should look «,Ud. like a dead m«i oome taTu^^
naif transparent, like a mist."
Tito, rather ashamed of himself for a sudden sensitiTeness
J^^ °PP°^ to hta usual easy self-eommand, said oa».
" That is a subject after your own heart, M esser Pieto-a
r*7K "t*^^*^.^y « 8h<»t- Yoa seem to love the bl«uU»g
of the terrible with the gay. I suppose that is the namf
your shelves are bo well furnished with death's-heads, while
you «j9 painting those roguish Loves who are running aww
with the armor of Mars. I begin to think you a>» a Cynio
philwyher in the pleasant disguise of a cunning painter.''
.^iZlW T^l ^'^'^ * P»»il'»>Pl'" i» tke last sort of
ammal I should chooee to resemble. I find it enough to Uve.
without spinning Les to account for life. Fowls cackle. assM
bray, women chatter, and phUosophers spin false reasons-
thas the effect the sight of the world brings out of th«n.
well, I am an animal that paints instead of cackling, or bray-
fflg, or spinning he.. And now, I think, our iLines. fa
done; you-U keep to your .ide of the bargun about the
Oaipn. and Antigone?"
"I wUl do my beat," «ud Tito_on this strong hint imme-
diately moving toward the door.
^J|_Andyor'llletmeknow«tNeUo's. No need to oome here
■J^r/?"^'''" '^^ ^'*^ l»ughingly, lifting hi. hand in
ngn of friendly parting.
it^%#l
4 W^im
r™i
THB OLD MAN'S HOPE.
1»9
CHAPTER XnC
THB OLD IfAir'l aoPB.
Mmsbb Bbbkabik) dbi. Nbbo was as inexorable m Hnn.„i.
«!mL' «*^^ ""-J"*""""*"! standard of sociiTvlir^ it
seemed irrational not to admit that «,.„ , ^ "
£« jr^^i
200
ROHOLA.
father ud dftnghter, and the first promiae hkd eren been mir-
pwed. The blind old »oholar— whose proud truthfulness
would never enter into that commerce of feigned and prepos-
terous admiration which, varied by a corresponding measure-
lessness in vituperation, made the woof of ai. learned inter-
course—had fallen into neglect even among his fellow-citiiens,
and when he was alluded to at all, it had long been usual to
ea- that, though his blindness and the loss of his son were
pitiable misfortunes, he was tiresome in contending for the
value of his own labors; and that hU discontent was a little
inconsistent in a man who had been openly regardless of re-
ligious rites, and who in days past had refused offers made to
him from various quarters, on the slight condition that he
would take orders, without which it was not easy for patrons
to provide for every scholar. But since Tito's coming, there
was no longer the same monotony in the thought that Bardo's
name suggested; the old man, it was understood, had left off
his plaints, and the fair daughter was no longer to be shut up
m dc earless pride, waiting for a parentado. The winning
manners and growing favor of the handsome Greek who was
expected to enter into the double relation of son and husband
helped to make the new interest a thoroughly friandly one,
and It was no longer a rare occurrence when a visitor enliv-
ened the quiet library. Elderly met came from that indefinite
prompting to renew former intercourse which arises when an
old acquaintance begins to be newly talked about; and young
men whom Tito had asked leave to bring once, found it easy
to go again when they overtook him on his way to the Via de'
Bardi, and, resting their hands on hU shoulder, fell into easy
chat with him. For it was pleasant to look at Bomola's
beauty; to see her, like old Flrenzuola's type of womanly
majesty, "sitting with a certain grandeur, speaking with
gravity, smiling with modesty, and casting around, as it were,
an odor of queenliness » ; • and she seemed to unfold like a
'"Qu&ndo un« donua « grande, Len formata, porta ben aua persona,
siedecon nna ceru grandezza, parla con graviU, ride coi. modeatla, e
flnalmente getta qua«i un odor di Regina; allora noi diclamo qaella
donna pare una maeaU, ella ha una mae8tA."_FiMiiacoi,A : DtUa Bel-
lata dale Donne.
™« OLD HANS HOPE.
in.
Tito's We. '" ^"^ ^" "ew bright life in
longed-for ^eounVconoeS).?';? ^" ''"'"^ receive the
be merged L, anoir^Sn "^;J^ ■ ''iS* '* «''-'<l -?
ferred to a body of monkB. Td k. n i^?^^ °°* ** ^^a^-
-onasteiy; ^'^t that ^.t should riirfl"^ "^ *\« "»-« of a
braiy, for tl. use of Florentin J 7 T^V ^^' ^'"^ ^i-
m in the Medici eould nTSf^nf k^ ' u'"* ^'''' "^ t^"'"
ftiU theatrongeet lever"n the Stat . ^'" ^"'""'•' ''"
^8 the ear of the Cardinal Giova^„' ^1 ^•'°^.°°'"' P««««-
more even thaaMesserBemwdo town J •^"^"'' ""'^ht do
""terest, for he could demon^^tetT^^r-^ *?' ''""^
Poouliar value of Bardi'ecolSnt/T'*'^ ""^'^o* the
guinely of .uch a result wm. T''° ''"""W talked san-
oonscioue that Eolurepaid th™*« *° "l^' *^« "'•* ""-^ -^d
wi": a aort of <^or,ao:Zt noZlT^Zl' ^ ''" *»*^"
have won from her '"'"'** *" herself could
-'i- cr:rwl'^^i^-^e -Meet Of .ore than
turned and the piosoectTf h^ ^" "^"^ Christmas was
but ^way. out oTfiLt .fhX'XrH'^"^'^ °«--
beUef, which they dared nTi 5' u T"^"^" nursed a vague
from the UhrlJ ^Z'^J^'tT^^ tbat his property, a^
wouMnoteven7eJertmZf '"''* '" '^•'""»^»- Efe
«J"pondency, ^d^t Ke« ^TT^'^.P™'''""' °* "^^ry
diainherited Dino woSd W fi^lf!,^'" "^ ''^ch he h^
debts, or that he n^ i:;^Srftn „a^'' °' ""^'^S b-*
•ecunty that a separate iJ^Z I^J^''^^ ^^^^ «•«
Hbrarr, in return fValerofVtv^ '^''^'^ *° '''''
to the Florentine Bepubir *^ ^ "^"^ *"" ""«J« i' "^er
tioi^^sSrttt-gr^.rhafr-' ^" " --'*'■
"uarried, and Messei- Tito wTw * * ^°" "e to be
.hould begin to wind up the affS " d Zt"' *"'^°"'' ''o
sum that would be necessary to sTvelTK"^;'"""^ '^''
to-ehed. instead of letting th^e der atui^ X't"*
™
902
ROUOLA.
Your father needi nothing but hii ahrad of mutton and hit
macaroni every day, and I think Messer Tito may engage to
supply that for the years that remain ; he can let it be in place
of the morgtn-cap. "
"Tito has always known that my life is bound up with my
father's," said Eomola; "and he is better to my father thim
I am : he delights in making him happy."
" Ah, he's not made of the same clay as other men, is he? "
said Bernardo, smiling. " Thy father has thought of shutting
woman's foUy out of thee by cramming thee with Greek and
Latin; but thou hast been as ready to believe in the first
pair of bright eyes and the first soft words that have come
within reach of thee, as if thou oouldst say nothing by heart
but Paternosters, like other Christian men's daughters."
^^ "Now, godfather," sa'dBomola, shaking her head playfully,
"as if It were only bright eyes and soft words that made me
love Tito I You know better. You know I love my father
and you because you are both good, and I love Tito too because
he IS 80 good. I see it, I feel it, in everything he saya and
does. And if he is handsome, too, why should I not love
him the better for that? It seems to me beautv is part of
the finished language by which goodness speaks. You know
you must have been a very handsome youth, godfather, "-she'
looked up with one of her happy, loving smiles at the stately
old man— "you were about as taU as Tito^ and you had very
fine eyes; only you looked a littie sterner and prouder,
" And Romola likes to have all the pride to herself? » said
Bernardo, not inaccessible to this pretty coaxing. « However
It IS weU that in one way Tito's demands are more modest
than those of any Florentine husband of fitting rank that we
should have been likely to find for you; he wants no dowry "
So It was settled in that way between Messer Bernardo del
Nero, Bomola, and Tito. Bardo assented with a wave of the
hand when Bernardo told him that he thought it would be
weU now to begin to seU property and clear off debts; being
aooustomed to think of debts and property as a sort of thick
wood that his imagination never even penetrated, still less got
beyond. And Tito set about winning Messer Bernardo's re-
THE DAT OF TH« BETBOTHAL 203
»« little tool/„,ble to rweS"r^;K'''^^!l«- """""^
OMiy about in our hearts » '" "" ""* "» men
B«»«l««iiled too, in happy «,„fide„^
CHAPTEK XX
tH» BAY or TH« BTOOTHAl.
Fir S"^,' It ttl ^r'-'^. -d the .t^ets of
•"-atedprooewiona, ohanSsT^ ""T'"' *^*'" '"« the
Iwd once been intioduoSbvTr^' ";'^''P««"«We now they
w« the favorite S]Xi^.^u™n ^^ ^^^^^'-'i the™
uader the blue frosty sky. ZZt '' *^ "^ ^^^"
•orts, from throwing Zfiteto T™ •^"^''"'^ J"^'^'' °f aU
"tone.. For the boys ^d .^^^- ^'^"'« """nes-espeoiaUy
in Florentine crowds. SeaT'"^^^" " "*""* *^'"*°*
a. loud and munani^bW tJ^" ^t**" °' Camival-tinie
immemorial Vri.ile^ZZrVj^T''^ T^ " ^" ""-i-
prs, imtil a tobute had b^n J77 ^P"^*" *° "^^ P^^""
Ws of strong .en^tions^th'^B^SpT'"', wj'''^* ''>«'«
«lude with the standine Tntert!"^^ .^"^ """^"^ = *«oon-
which was not entoe^V^o^"""* "^ "tone-throwing,
mjumingwasvariousT^dTwl °?ar''' *^^ '»'"«^"«*
who was killed. So that th« „T ^^^ » ''"Sle person
ofaoheokeredkint^dif ap'ir °' '"jf CamivaTwer^
resent them truly, he wou^d havl t^'JT ""^'^ "P*"" <» ^^P"
««>«. would be so much grossnel! iTt^ ^"''"'' '° ^'''»''
«» turned with its face tl th^ ILr^L^.^-^ J^!^' -'
a»i
ROMOtA.
down for the gnve historical purpose of jastifying a reftem-
ing zeal which, in ignorance oi the facts, might be unfairly
condemned for its narrowness. Still there was much of that
more innocent picturesque merriment which is never wanting
among a people with quick animal spirits and sensitive organs:
there was not the heavy sottishness which belongs to the
thicker northern blood, nor the stealthy fieroeness whioh in
the more southern regions of the peninsula makes the brawl
lead to the dagger-thrust.
It was the high morning, but the meny spirits of the Car-
nival were still inclined to lounge and recapitulate the last
night's jests, when Tito Melema was walking at a brisk pace
on the way to the Via de' Bardi. Young Bernardo Dovizi,
who now looks at us out of Raphael's portrait as the keen-
eyed Cardinal da Bibbiena, was with him; and as they went,
they held animated talk about some subject that had evidently
BO relation to the sights and sounds through which they were
pushing their way along the Por' Santa Maria. Nevertheless,
as they discussed, smiled, and gesticulated, they both, from
time to time, oast quick glances around them, and at the turn-
ing toward the Lung' Arno, leading to the Ponte Bubaoonte^
Tito had become aware, in one of these rapid surveys, that
there was some one not far ofF him by whom he very much
desired not to be recognized at that moment. His time and
thoaght* were thoroughly pre-ocoupied, for he was looking
forward to a unique occasion in his life: he was preparing for
his betrothal, which was to take place on the evening of this
very day. The ceremony had been resolved upon rather sud-
denly; for although preparations toward the marriage had
been going forward for some time — chiefly in the application
of Tito's florins to the fitting up of rooms in Bardo's dwelling,
which, the library excepted, had always been scantily fur-
nished—it had been intended to defer both the betrothal and
the marriage until after Easter, when Tito's year tf proba-
tion, insisted on by Bernardo del Nero, would have be m com-
plete. But when an express proposition had come, that Tito
should follow the Cardinal Giovanni to Rome to help Bernardo
Dovizi with his superior knowledge of Greek in arranging a
library, and there was no possibility of declining what lay so
wmM .■v'f^.rf^kl
THE DAY OF THE BETROTHAL.
20S
pUfaly on the read to advancement, he had become urge„t in
hMentreataes that the betrothal might take place beC h^
on his return, and it would be less painful to part if he and
RomoU were outwardly as well a, inwardly p^dged to e^h
^.ei7« . " ^Z."'*™ "'''oJ' defied Mes4 BemUoor^;
one else to nullify ,t. For the betrothal, at which ring. w7re
ral^f^r,"" "it^'T'' '"'°*"""' -""' "^"^ made mo'erhl
half the legality of marriage, to be completed on a separate
occasion by the nuptial benediction. Amok's feel^rC
^n wot' " "" ""* *'' """""^ "'."-^ ""J'" ^^
And now Tito was hastening amidst arranglments for his
departure the next day, to snatch a morning "isit tTCoU.
To^i""^ ""Z "^l ''^' ^""^^ """ '^^^ needful to bl»X
fo^ their meeting for the betrothal in the evening, n w^
not a time when any recognition could be pleasant that was at
all hkely to detain him; still less a recognition by Te^
And It was unmistakably Tessa whom he had caught sight^f
TrTof ttT '^ 'V *'""'•""' '"^o" ^«"'' tow^dtha7ve°y
turn of the Lung' Arno which he was just rounding As he
T^ h^ "T' "^'"""''io^^e'"' which told him Zt
Tessa had seen him and would certainly foUow him- twL
was no shaping her along this direct road by LZioZ
over the Ponte Eubaconte. But she would not dare to sp^
to him or approach him while he was not alone, ^d he S
conmue to keep Dovizi with him till they riched Barb's
£l butairhe Tt ';.' P"""* "^^ *™"' "P »«>- *''™''ds of
thouU h«l f ^b'lrtt* sense that Tessa was behind him,
though he had no physical evidence of the fact, grew stronge
and stronger; it was very irritating-perhaps all the more so
made the determination to escape without anVvisible noticf
of her, a not altogether agreeable resource. Yet Tito ^ e-
ng his "addio" without turning his face in a direction^ere
It was possible for him to see an importunate pair of blue
•yes; and as he went up the stone steps, he tried to get r^
20«
ROMOU.
of nnpleuant thottghU by saying to himself th»t Otm iH
lew might not hare nen him, or, if ihe h»d, might not
h»ve followed him.
But— perhaps because that possibUity could not be relied
on strongly— when the visit was over, he oame out of the
doorway with a quick step and an air of unoonsoionsnesa as to
anythmg that might be on his right hand or his left Our
eyes are so constructed, however, that they take in a wide
angle without asking any leave of our will; and Tito knew
ttat there was a little figure in a white hood standing near
the doorway— knew it quite well, before he felt a hand laid
on his arm. U was a real grasp, and not a light, timid touch :
for poor Tessa, seeing his rapid step, had started forward with
a desperate effort But when he stopped and turned toward
her, her face wore a frightened look, as if she dreaded the
effect of her boldness.
"Tessal " said Tito, with more sharpness in his voice than
she had ever heard in it before. " Why are you here? You
must not follow me— you must not stand about doorplsoes
waiting for me."
Har blue eyes widened with tears, and she said nothing
Tito was afraid of something worse than ridicule, if he were
seen in the Via de' Bardi with a girlish oontedina looking
pathetically at him. It was a street of high sUent-looking
dwellmgs, not of traffic; but Bernardo del Nero, or some one
^most as dangerous, might come up at any moment Even
if It had not been the day of his betrothal, the incident would
have been awkward and annoying. Yet it would be brutal-
it was impossible— to drive Tessa away with harsh words
That accursed folly of his with the e«rr«tono_that it should
have lam buried in a quiet way for months, and now start up
before him as this unseasonable crop of vexation I He could
not speak harshly, but he spoke hurriedly.
"Tessa, I otouot— must not talk to you here. I wiU go
on to the bridge and wut for you there. Follow me slowly "
He turned and walked fast to the Ponte Bubaconte, aild
there leaned against the wall of one of the quaint little houses
that rise at even distances on the bridge, looking toward the
way by which Tessa would come. It would have softened a
THE DAT OF THE BETROTHAL. Wf
*^ ■ M §0011 M .he oune near him.
..:j»:rtSr^j:^7i-sr;ri"?e^
vo.ce of TitC^-I thought you wouldn'Tto L lon^^fo™
you ome to take care of n.e .g«n. And the ;ST!^u
me, and I can't bear it any longer. And alwavV^ZTr
for . holidaylwalk aJt to'^find ^. «d'l S T
2't hdp .^ for the days are so long, andl don^t m^d aU!
S^ *■ »nd kjda, or anything-and I can't .»
mie sob* came fast now, and the great tears Titn *-i*
a^^y-yr't^the" ""^Tr ""^ ~^^°'*^- ^^ ^
away—yes, that he must do, at once. B' * it was all the
TJ^^I^^V' *^, her anything that would Ce hert
ground, but the difficulty of the moment wa* too ™«inr?l
iuzx to weigh distant oonseqnenoes ^ * ^"
"Tessa, my little one," he said," in hU old caressine tone..
"you must not cry. Bear with the <^ss^^\^i2
Bome-a long, long way off. I ri^all come bf* !n a few
l^J^ *^''° ^ P""^" *° ~""' ""^ •«> you^romUe me
to be good and wait for me. " "omue me
It was the well-remembered voice asain and th« ,«.«
jound was half enough to soothe Te^ 'sh^Lt^ u^^
hnn with teustmg eyes, that still glittered with tea^, .obtoj
Again he said, m a gentle voice,— ^
"Promise me, my Tessa."
" Yes, " she whispered. " But you won't be long? "
^ ROMOLA.
"No» not long. Bat I must go now. And ranambn wh«t
I told you, Teiaa. Nobody nut know that you aTw tw ma,
•IM you will loM me forever. And now, when I hkT* left
yon, go (traight home, and never follow me again. Wait till
I oome to you. Good-by, my little Tenia: I wiU come."
There wa« no help for it; he muit turn and leave her with-
out looking behind him to lee how the bore it, for ha bad no
tame to spare. When he did look round he was in the Via de'
Benoi, where there was no seeing what was happening on the
bridge; but Tessa was too trusting and obedient not to do
just what he had told her.
Yes, the difBoulty was at an end for that day; yet this re-
turn of Tessa to him, at a moment when it was impossible for
Urn to put an end to all difficulty with her by undeceiving
her, was an unpleasant incident to carry in his memory. But
Tito's mind was just now thoroughly penetrated with a hope-
ftU first love, associated with all happy protpects flattering to
his ambition; and that future necessity of grieving Tessa
could be scarcely more to him than the far-off cry of some
Uttle suffering animal buried in the thicket, to a merry caval-
«dein the sunny plain. When, for the second time that
day, Tito was hastening across the Ponte Bubaconte, the
thought of Tessa caused no perceptible diminution of his hap-
piness. He was well muffled in his mantle, less, perhaps, to
protect him from the cold than from the additional notice
ttat would have been drawn upon him by his dainty apparel
He leaped up the stone steps by two at a time, and said hur-
nedly to Maso, who met him,
" Where is the dainigella7 "
"In tte library, she is quite ready, and MonnaBrigidaand
Besser Bernardo are already there with Ser Braocio, but none
of the rest of the company."
"Ask her to give me a few minutes alone: I will await
MI la the talotta."
Tito entered a room which had been fitted up in the utmost
owtrastwith the half-pallid, half-sombre tints of the library.
The walls were brightly frescoed with "caprices" of nymphs
and loves sporting under the blue among flowers and birds
The only furniture besides the red leather seats and the oen-
.^3 jiAjr>'%
THE DAT OF TOT BrTROTHAL. 209
Uw flut^ modelled by . promUing youth named Michelangelo
Bnonaiotti. It waa a room that s«t« » iwh of bein. in the
•unny open air.
^«r'°rf '"'''" "I""* """"^ ''™' "^d '"oked toward the
dOOT. It waa not long before Eomola entered, all white and
w.'HJ!!!"? i^" '7/ '^' ' *^' "'y- «« "Wte .ilk garment
Tn!?^ ^v^.'*"'*^!" ^""•' ''^^^ '•" "'* large ta.«.ls,
and above that wa. the rippling gold of her hair, aurmounted
^ ^'"^^ ?*",°^ •"•' '°°8 '«"' ''''''•' "« '"toned on
her brow by a band of peuU, the gift of Bernardo del Nero,
and waa now pwted off her face ao that it all floated baok-
ward.
It, Btill keeping his mantie round him. He could not help
f {"l^" Tr*.*" ^~^ •' •"" "8'^' '"'o *e atood in calm
delight with that ezquiaite aelf-conaoiouaness which rises
under the gaze of admiring love.
"RomoK will you show me the next room now?" said
Tito cheokwg himself with the remembrance that the time
might be short. " You said I should see it when you ha<l ar
ranged everything." '
Without speaking, she led tho way into a long, narrow
room, painted brighUy like the other, but only with bird3
flowers. The furniture in it was aU old; there were old faded
objects for feminme use or ornament, arranged in an open
cabinet between the two narrow windows; above the cabinet
was the portrait of RomoU's mother; and below this, on the
fc^ of the cabinet, stood the omoiflx which Komola had
brought from San Marco.
"I have brought something under my mantle," said Tito
amilmg; and throwing oif the large loose garment, he showed
the htUe tabernacle which had been painted by Piero di
Cosimo. The painter had carried out Tito's intention charm-
ingly, and so far had atoned for his long delay. "Do you
know what this is for, my Romola?" added Tito, taking her
by the hand, and leading her toward the cabinet "It is a
little shrine, which is to hide away from you forever that re-
membrancer of sadness. You have done with sadness now
^^
7^>m^^y^^i''^
•"•etOeOW MKXUTION IBt OMIT
(ANSI ond BO Tf ST CHAUT No. 2)
1.0 g
^^= itt |22
2.0
1.8
I.I ?.'
TIPPLED HVMGE Ine
1653 Eo«l Main StrMt
Roch«t«f. Nm Tof* !4«0g US*
(71$) W-OMO-PhooT^
(716) 2M - 5»»» - Fo.
210
ROMOLA.
^ 'tJ^'i ^^' "^^ '°^'" °* •*-'™'y tJ**"" in a tomb of
jPy. 0661
A slight quiver pwned across RomoU's face as Tito took
hold of the crucifix. But she had no wbh to preyent his pur-
pose; on the oantrary, she herself wished to subdue certain
importunate memories and questionings which stUl flitted like
unexplained • badows across her happier thought
He opened the triptych and placed the crucifix within the
centoal space; then closing it again, taking out the key, and
setting the litUe tabernacle in the spot where the crucifix had
stood, said, — ^^
"Now, ^mola, look and see if you are satisfied with the
portraitB old Piero has made of us. Is it not a dainty device?
and the credit of choosing it is mine."
« Ahl^ is you_it is perfect! " said Bomola, looking with
moist joyful eyes at the miniature Bacchus, with his purple
clusters. "And I am Ariadne, uid you are crowning mel
Jtes, It IS true, Tito; you have crowned my poor life "
They held each other's hands while she spoke, wd both
^ked at theu: imaged selves. But the reaUty was far more
beautiful; she all Wy-white and golden, and he with his dark
glowmg beauty above the purple red-bordered tunic
And It was our good strange Piero who painted it? » said
Bomola. "Did you put it into his head to paint me as Anti-
gone, that he might have my likeness for this? "
" K(^ it was he who made my getting leave for him to paint
you and your father, a condition of his doing this for me!^
Ah! I see now what it was you gave up your precious
T ,, P*"**'«^ yo" "lad some cunning plan to give me
Tito did not blench. Eomola's little illusions about him-
self had long ^as«a to cause him anything but satisfaction.
He only smiled and said,
" I might have spared my ring; Piero will accept no money
from me ; he thinks himself paid by painting you. And now,
while I am away, you will look every day at those pretty
^mbols of our life together-the ship on the calm sel and
the ivy that never withers, and those Loves that have left off
woundmg us and shower soft petals that are like our kiasee-
m.3t.:
THE DAT OP THE BETROTHAL. 211
have Bat by each other." "«» we
"hJl™."'°;." -"^'^ ^Tl^ •" ■* J^^lf-Jaoghing voice of love;
Ka^nJ^llfi'^" "^^ '^''°' v'"'' P^*y*"' ^~''"<"'. opening big
!! .f. '! ^ T' '"'*'^ *° ^""^ a* **>« Muoifii again? "
AH! for that very reason it is bidden— hidden bv these
linages of youth and joy." ^ "*
He pressed a light kiss on her brow, and she «»id no more
^t.tr^""; ''''"" '^'^ ~"^' ''^«°''^« feltno^Td
reason for resistance.
ii^^^tV^^^ ^''^^ *''" "^**"8 •^"'P^y, which made a
contetowMd Santa Croce. Slowly it passed, for Bardo nn-
acoustomed for years to leave his own house walked wth a
moretamid st«p than usual; and that slow ^ace snTtelweU
wrtiMhe gouty dignity of Messer Bartolommeo ScI^J it
wl^^ ., / T ""^to^ary to have very long troops of
e^nten finr'" "* ""* ^'^''''' ~ '»t~«'al,*and ifh^
rr.^^ °T"^ '" **""" P""* *° '™i' ft" "umber
.Me 1 r *^ f"^' *«'«'«^two bnndred on e^h
side; for since the guests were all feasted after this in^l
e»emony^as well a. after the no,», or marriage he ve^
first Stage of matrimony had become a minonTexpense 2
^^ ct:'"K"sfd"' ^t' ^^'" -"P'o-drhU
Ei^^ ^"^ ""^ appearance of claiming the advantages
given on the strength of mere friendship; and the modert Z!
cession of twenty that followed the ,p„ were witt th2^
'znz!^' «^»^ "^ ^^"'^ -^ Tito's^^ir;^!
na
HOMOLA.
wills *u ^r "'^'"^ ■" » ""B"""* before Bttdo, who
^H h^- • ff" '""^ ^'""^" ''««' ""«ri«^ »' Santa C^^
11 A"""".^ *?" ^°'°^''' '*'°8 betrothed and mS
Sr/ ",^"° \^' "">" "''""^ »' Santa Lucia owS
tteu: houoe, beoaa««, he had a complete mental vision rftS
grand church, where he hoped that a burial might be Rranted
him among the Florentine, who had deserved welL ^pS
Trll, L -'V ""•y they "onW return bcforeanydancM
or show, began in the great piazza of Santa Crooe. m.^ JJ
^^ ^^ P*^*^ *'"' ^^l^' ""d shed a mellow li'w on
aie pretty procession, which had a touch of solemnity in tie
oCTd TitoLd t 't"- ^"* "^«- *^« eer^ony wt
over, and Tito and Komola came out on to the broad steos of
ttechurch. w,th the golden links of destiny on th7b fin^
the evening had deepened, into struggling starlight, and tt^
servants had their torches lit. """"gni, antt tbe
jrZ^' tl-y eo'ne out, a strange, dreary chant, as of a
of the piazza there seemed to be a stream of people impeUed
by something approaching from the Borgo de' GkSi ^
Tito whn*""' °^ ^^'j' '""'"^ processioms I suppose," said
And as he spoke there came slowly into view, at a height
far above the heads of the onlook,™, a h^^ 'anlS*
rounded by his winged children, the Hours. ^ ™
rZt .rfi''*\r ""'"P'"*"'^ "^''"d 'if' black, and th"
ho™^^ . T *" "^^ '"« '^'■° "^^^"^ with blS,k, thei^
horns alone standing out white above the gloom; sotJiat^
^e sombre shadow of the house, it seemed to th^e at ali^
^uZh ^^ T^ J" "^^^'^ '"'^ apparitions fl.^^g
through the sir. And behind them came what looked li ™f
ta^pof the sheeted dead gliding above blackne». And a^
they ghded slowly, they chanted in a wailing strain.
A cold horror seized on Romola, for at the first moment it
seemed as if her brother', vision, which could never be eS
THK DAT OF THE BETROTHAL. 213
from her mind, was being half fulfilled. She oinng to Tito,
who, divining what was in her thoughts, said,—
" What dismal fooling sometimes pleases your Florentines t
DoubUess this is an invention of Piero di Cosimo, who loves
such grim merriment.''
« Tito, I wish it had not happened. It wUl deepen the im-
ages of that vision which I would fain be rid of."
"Nay, Eomola, you wUl look only at the images of our
happmess now. I have looked all sadness away from you."
" But it is still there— it is only hidden," said Bomola, in
a low tone, hardly conscious that she spoke.
" See, th^ are aU gone now I " said Tito. " You will forget
this ghastly mummery when we are in the light, and can see
each other's eyes. My Ariadne must never look backward
now— only forward to Easter, when ahe will, triumph with
her Care-dispeller."